


Game Plan

by CLynnB



Series: Stargate Civilians [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Stargate SG-1, The A-Team (TV), The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Aliens, Blood and Injury, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Team as Family, Time Travel, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29913711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLynnB/pseuds/CLynnB
Summary: SG1 didn't expect to be captured and told they'd be participating in a hunting game. Or that the ones they'd be hunting would be other teams from Earth. Famous teams, actually, that had disappeared decades ago.Well. No one actually expected SG1 to play by the rules, did they?
Relationships: B. A. Baracus & H. M. "Howling Mad" Murdock & Templeton "Faceman" Peck & John "Hannibal" Smith, Xander Harris/Faith Lehane/Daniel "Oz" Osbourne
Series: Stargate Civilians [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203962
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a set up for a series. To make this work, I've moved SG1 up by about ten years, so it takes place in the 2010's. I'm thinking this is set around season five-ish of Stargate SG1. Between season 2 and 3 of A-Team. Magnificent 7 is the ATF verse, but set in the 90's, and the Buffy verse is after Sunnydale fell, but the comics never happened.

“I’m getting too old for this crap,” Jack O’Neill muttered as he pushed himself back up against the wall of the cell he’d been thrown into. Six years of working for the SGC and he was getting tired of being held captive. Sam just shot him an unamused look while Teal’c silently tilted his head. Daniel, unfortunately, was still out cold, and Jack absently pulled the man into his arms, automatically checking his vitals. While the bump on his head was a bit of a mess, the knife to the thigh was arguably the bigger problem.

The leader of the group of aliens that had taken them captive just smiled, rocking back on his heels, hands in the pockets of his rather earth-like suit. “Now, now, Colonel. The fun’s only just beginning.” Great, they’d gotten one with a sense of sarcasm. That was always fun.

“Uh huh, sure,” Jack grumbled, narrowing his eyes. This man, a rather human-like man, had amassed a rather large group of aliens from what looked like all over the universe. All different species and races and groups, and most of them rather violent and happy to attack anyone that their leader pointed them at. And he’d been expecting them, from the looks of things. The moment they’d stepped out of the ‘Gate, they’d been ambushed. 

“Did you know, Colonel,” the man drawled, “that there are large groups of societies out there that pay quite a lot for good entertainment?” He didn’t pause long enough to let anyone get any words in, just smiled and continued. “And hunting games are good entertainment, don’t you think? The strongest team survives?” He grinned, and oh yeah, that grin wasn’t human. Those teeth were way too pointy for that.

“Hunting games,” Sam repeated, tilting her head with a frown. Because she had a feeling that she knew what he meant by that, and she wasn’t too sure she wanted to participate.

“Sure, Major,” the man said, still grinning. “Now, I could pit you against the teams I already have here, but where would the fun in that be? Better to grab some new teams. Fresh meat, so to speak. And, even better, we’ll grab them from your own planet. Pit you against some of your own kind.” He spun on his heel, freeing one hand from his pocket to wave it aimlessly in the air. “Until then.” 

And then he was gone, striding through the heavy steel door at the end of the cell block.

Sam turned, swallowing heavily. “Grab from our own planet,” she said softly. The look in her blue eyes was telling. She was frightened and intrigued and getting a little angry.

“I heard him,” Jack said, voice low. The man had the ability and the know-how to abduct people from Earth. And, apparently, any other planet he wanted. And pit them against each other for entertainment. “Gives hunting for sport a whole new meaning.”

“Not really,” Daniel grumbled from Jack’s lap, startling all three of his companions, although Teal’c didn’t show it. “It’s 2015 and there are still instances of things like this on our own planet.” He didn’t sound good, and Jack shifted just enough to look down at his archeologist. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, no,” Jack countered. “You have a hole in your leg, Danny.” 

Daniel shrugged a little, a bit more apathetic than Jack would have liked. “You have a plan?” he asked, wincing as he tried to sit up. His head spun and he sank back against the Colonel, who caught him and lowered him back into a laying position. 

“Nope,” Jack said. “Think we’ll just sit back for a moment and see who these other teams are that were mentioned.” Once these teams showed up, they’d see if they could work out a plan together.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan hadn't come together, and Face got the short stick for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood and Injury warning. Mentions of PTSD and killing. Takes place between season 2 and 3 of The A-Team. (So everything that happens after season three, at least, never happened.)

The plan had very much not come together, and Hannibal was not in a good mood about it. 

They’d been hired by a group of townsfolk that were incredibly tired of being terrorized by a family of maniacs. It was very reminiscent to when they’d taken out the Watkins brothers two years earlier. Only this time, Face had been in the hands of the Marleys for two days now, which had not been the plan at all. 

Hannibal couldn’t even see where his plan had gone wrong. Face had done his part splendidly, and the Marleys had been falling for everything. And then suddenly, their Lieutenant was gone, and the Marleys were crowing about how the A-Team was dead meat and two days was a long time to have one man missing.

Of course, it didn’t help that the Marleys had a rather large following of people outside of the town that were happy to help them out. Maybe that’s where they’d gone wrong; miscounting the amount of people they were going up against.

Whatever the matter, they were going to get Face back tonight. Forget being sneaky about it, too, because the moment Murdock said that he had found Face, they were going to blow the place to kingdom come. And so help him, he wouldn’t even feel guilty about the people that would inevitably die tonight.

So, Hannibal settled back, watching the compound silently, B.A. at his side, grenades in hand. Murdock had snuck into the building ten minutes ago, and the moment he had Face, he would call in with news.

“Ah shit,” Murdock’s voice came over the com unit, and Hannibal and B.A. exchanged looks. That wasn’t good.

Murdock, as was his job, had found Face. But the man wasn’t in any condition to move quickly, and Murdock wasn’t even sure if Face was even with him mentally at this point.  
“Captain?” Hannibal’s voice said in his ear.

“Give me a moment, man,” Murdock muttered, inching closer and watching Face tense, head tilting at the sound.

Face was standing, tied to a pole, in the middle of the room. His arms were secured behind him, around the pole, duct tape keeping them together at both the wrist and elbow, making for a very uncomfortable stance. He was shirtless, his chest showing off a wide array of bruising and his jeans were torn and stained with blood, most of which coming from what looked like a stab wound to his right thigh. His shoes were missing as well. And he had duct tape covering his eyes and wrapped around his head to cover his mouth.

And there were six dead men at his feet. All looked to have had their necks snapped. 

Murdock knew that Face was well-trained; the man was a Green Beret and had been one at the tender age of 20. Had advanced in rank to First Lieutenant before he’d even turned 21. (Or, well, his paperwork had said 21 but Hannibal had once let it slip that Face had forged those files, so Murdock really didn’t have any real clue as to how old his friend was. Sometimes he wondered if Face even knew how old he was.) But to be strung up as he was and still able to kill anyone that had gotten too close to him…that was skill that Face rarely ever showed. 

“Hey there Facey,” Murdock said softly, taking another step forward, making just a little bit of noise. “You with me, muchacho?” Face tensed even more, his chest heaving as he struggled to get enough air through just his nose, clearly running on fumes at this point.

“You found him?” Hannibal asked, sounding just as tense as Face looked. “Murdock, grab him and get out so we can blow this place.”

“No can do, Colonel-my-man,” Murdock replied softly, eyeing his best friend in obvious concern. “They’ve got him trussed up all pretty here and I don’t want to end up like everyone else that’s gotten close to him since.”

“What?”

“There’s six dead men here, Hannibal, and I’d rather not be the seventh,” Murdock said, shifting a little closer. “Let me see if I can talk him down.” Honestly, the next time Face said that a pretty lady had taught him how to kill someone with just his thighs, he was going to take him seriously. And maybe ask for lessons.

“Facey? Faceman?” Murdock crooned, inching ever closer. “It’s just your ol’ pal H.M. You’re doing great, buddy,” Murdock murmured, stepping over a body. Face shifted against his bonds, a small noise escaping his throat. “That’s it, Facey. Temp?”

Face whined again, relaxing just a little, chest still heaving, legs still tense and trembling a little. Murdock reached out, brushing his fingertips against Face’s cheek, frowning at the heat coming off his friend. “Good, Tempy, good Face. Let me get you down from there, yeah? Then we can join the Colonel and our favorite mudsucker. They’ve been very cranky since you disappeared, let me tell you, muchacho.” 

Face’s head dropped a little as he relaxed even more, Murdock grabbing a knife from his pocket and flipping it open. “Just gonna cut you loose, buddy,” he whispered, stepping closer and reaching around to Face’s arms. 

But at that moment, a bright light engulfed the two of them and they were both sent sprawling onto cold stone, cursing from their left proving that Hannibal and B.A. were right there with them. Face immediately started to fight against Murdock, who had landed on top of his friend. 

Murdock just had to make a small noise and Hannibal and B.A. were right there, helping to hold Face down, Hannibal talking to his XO, trying to get him to calm down. Despite being somewhere completely new, despite all the noise happening around them, they were focused on just Face, still bound and gagged and blindfolded and clearly panicking. 

“That’s it, kid,” Hannibal whispered as Face slowly calmed, “You’re alright. We got you. Just breathe, Lieutenant.”

“Holy crap, that’s the A-Team,” a voice said from somewhere across from them, and Hannibal looked up from where he was leaning over Face. Looked through a set of bars to another cell across from them, where seven men were sprawled, two of which looking worse for wear. The youngest one from that cell was the one who had spoken, a trembling hand pushing dark hair from his face.

“A-Team disappeared twenty years ago,” another young voice muttered, and Hannibal turned to another cell, the one next to him, where three kids—well, early twenties at least—were lying, covered in blood and gore and looking completely exhausted and somewhat unamused.

The kid from the first cell shook his head. “No. They’ve been gone ten. Not twenty.”

“Thirty, actually,” a strong voice said, and Hannibal turned his attention to the last cell, still silent and still observing. There stood a military man, watching the other cells with a dark frown. “The A-Team disappeared thirty years ago. The Magnificent Seven, the crack ATF team out of Denver disappeared twenty years ago…and kids…you’re the missing team from the New Council, aren’t ya?” At the blinks from the three kids, the two boys and the girl in the cell next to his own, the military man sighed. “You’ve been gone for ten. Your Council nearly tore the world apart looking for you. Sorry to get all of you mixed up in our mess.”

Hannibal looked back to his men, watching as Murdock sawed through the duct tape binding Face’s arms, careful with the knife. B.A. was looking angry, which meant that he was rather unsettled. Face wasn’t in any condition to look any which way and was more or less lying limp beneath him. 

“What mess?”


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander didn't let the Hyena out often, but when he did, things seemed to happen. This...this wasn't anywhere near the realm of things he'd been expecting though.

Xander Harris had been fighting for nearly a decade and he could admit that he was tired. He’d watched so many people die (sometimes more than once), he’d killed so many in the name of justice. He’d lost an eye, his family, his friends and a bit of his own humanity. 

But staring out over the African savannah, the stars shining brightly above him, the wind tousling his dark hair, and Faith and Oz standing at his back, he found he didn’t regret any of it. Even when he knew that there was a very good chance that they wouldn’t live through the night, not with what they were trying to stop while being woefully unprepared to stop it, he couldn’t regret any part of his life that dealt with this fight.

“You all good, Xan-man?” Faith asked, stepping up so she could stand next to him. Oz slinked forward as well, his wolf closer to the surface. “Looking a bit peaky, there.”

Well, gee, way to call him out. Xander hadn’t been feeling all that good for the past two days, actually. He had a feeling it had to do with something he’d eaten. That mostly rare meat, actually, probably. That was why he didn’t like letting his Hyena run too free too often. His stomach usually regretted it. 

“Thanks for backing me up,” he said, instead of answering her question. “And I’m sorry for anything that may happen.” 

Faith’s hand slipped into one of his back pocket’s, and Oz’s fingers trailed across the small of his back. He heaved a sigh and threw his arms around the shoulders of his two smaller companions, pulling them close for a moment.

They were about to head into the lair of a Demon Lord that was intent on opening a baby hellmouth here in Africa. No one had known about the hellmouth until Xander had realized why what he was feeling out here in the savannah was so familiar. It was nowhere near as strong as Sunnydale’s had been, but it didn’t need to be for the Demon Lord’s plan to work. 

When he’d been sent out to Africa, soon after the fall of Sunnydale and the rebuilding of the Council, he’d gone willingly. It’d been a bit of a suicide mission, actually, and everyone had known it. Xander hadn’t cared, but Buffy and Willow had put up a proper fight. It hadn’t mattered, though, and Xander had gotten his way and had been sent alone to find the forty or so Slayers that had popped up on the continent. 

Faith and Oz had joined him about a year in on his mission, Faith running from Cleveland and a failed relationship, and Oz looking for acceptance. And they’d fallen into a whirlwind of a relationship that had slowly formed into something steady and quiet and calm. The three of them had a balance that Xander hadn’t had since Jesse had died and had found himself craving without even realizing it.

“Nothing that happens tonight is your fault,” Faith muttered. “Now, let’s go kill the demon and save the world.”

“Again,” Oz added, with a quirk of his lips. 

And Xander let his Hyena loose, his remaining eye flashing a deep unsettling green as he let loose an animalistic chuckle. Oz shuddered a bit, making a noise that nearly matched the Hyena and Faith laughed. They’d always loved when Xander went more feral, stating that the Shaman they’d run into in Nigeria had done nothing but good when he’d released the Primal spirit from its cage and helped Xander merge with it. 

The next two hours were complete chaos. There were the Demon Lord’s minions to take care of and then the Demon Lord himself. Blood and guts and weapons flying. Screaming coming from all of them. The Demon Lord shouting above everything else.

And then Xander had the Demon by the neck, his eye shining that creepy green, a cackle escaping his throat. And he ripped the head right off the beast, the hellmouth shuddering closed behind him as the Demon Lord hadn’t managed to completely finish the ritual that would open it fully. 

And the world calmed, Faith and Oz coming together in the middle of the cavern to where Xander was kneeling, breathing heavy and wincing as he took stock. “Everyone okay?” he rasped.

“Five by five, Xan,” Faith frowned. She flexed her fingers and bounced on her toes. Aside from a few scrapes she seemed to have gotten out fine. “Oz?”

“I’m good,” the smaller werewolf muttered, eyeing Xander. “You okay, Xan-dear?” he asked. There was blood running from Oz’s face, but the wolf ignored it; it would be healed by morning. 

“Um…” Xander hummed, tilting his head to one side as he thought about it. His stomach was upset; the smells in the cave making his earlier nausea rear its head. And his back was hurting from some claws that had gotten a lucky shot, but as long as the wounds were thoroughly cleaned he was pretty sure it was more superficial than anything. “Yeah. I think I’m good.”

“Still looking peaky, bossman,” Faith muttered, grabbing Xander by his arm and hauling him to his feet. “Think it’s time to head to London for a break. We’ve earned it.”

Oz snickered softly, looking around the cave and themselves. They were covered in gore and it wasn’t really a pretty look. 

Before they could make another move, however, there was a bright flash of light and they were being dumped on a cold stone floor.

Xander bit back a cry, the cuts on his back perhaps a little worse than he’d thought, and then grumbled to himself. If Willow had forced-teleported them again then he was going to have words with her. But Oz and Faith had both gone scarily still next to him, and there was a lot of noise happening in the place where they’d ended up, so it was likely that Willow wasn’t behind this after all.

He looked up, propping himself up on his arms to see what had his partners so quiet. 

They were in a cell, with three other occupied cells around them. One had four people in military uniform, one of which looked to be either sleeping or unconscious. The obvious leader of that group was standing, watching all of them with an unreadable look. 

Another cell had seven men, two were injured and were being asked to stay down and stay still by another two, while the remaining three were looking around in shock and confusion.

The last cell had four men, three trying to calm down the fourth that looked to be in bad shape, bound and blindfolded and gagged as he was. They didn’t look like they were harming the man, but they were trying to keep him from hurting anyone else. 

All in all, no one looked like they belonged here. And Xander was pretty sure he recognized at least one of the men in the cell with the bound guy, and from memories that weren’t actually his own, which was worrying. 

And then the youngest man from the group of seven was saying something about the A-Team, which didn’t make sense, because the A-Team had been missing for twenty years. They’d disappeared back in 1985 while on a mission to help a small town out in Colorado. Everybody from California (or at least those who had lived near L.A.) knew that.

But then the military man was correcting him and stating something about how he and Faith and Oz were the missing Council team. The team that had been missing for ten years themselves and that made him freeze a bit. One, because this man (an obvious military man) knew about the Council so he had to have some extreme clearance, and two, because if they’ve been missing for ten years, and they were with people who had been missing for twenty and thirty years, then there was something really big going on.

“What mess?” the silver haired guy from the A-Team, the guy that Xander was pretty sure he knew as Colonel Smith was asking, and Xander couldn’t help but wonder that as well.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris Larabee didn't like when things went sideways. And alien planets were definitely sideways.

Chris Larabee was really displeased with the way the bust was going down. He always hated working with the FBI on any bust, especially green agents. But someone had gone above his head and sent Ezra undercover with a green agent, and that agent had blown said cover and gotten the bust to go completely haywire. And he knew that Ezra had realized what was going to go down moments before it happened due to the slight intake of breath he’d heard over the coms. Ezra had a tendency to know things in advance, especially if it put his life on the line. 

Ezra had taken two shots to the chest—thankfully he was wearing a vest—and one to the thigh before he’d overpowered the man with the gun. Vin had taken a fall from the catwalk of the warehouse they were in and landed precariously on the crates below. They hadn’t anticipated one of the goons being so fast up the stairs. Vin was moving, but wasn’t moving a lot, which was worrisome. The FBI greenie had taken a single shot to his chest and despite wearing a vest was moaning and groaning and carrying on like he was going to die. Vest shots hurt a lot, yes, but Ezra was still up and moving, so this greenie was being a bit much.

Ezra didn’t look very thrilled at his once-partner, to be honest, just barely holding himself together as he held a gun on the dealer they were trying to catch. The wound to his leg was pumping blood and Chris was concerned, but they had to get this cleaned up and quick.

Buck, Josiah and Nathan were quickly rounding up the rest of the dealer’s posse, with JD calling in the backup from his spot near the doors. Chris, after handcuffing the dealer and the rest of the ‘bad guys’ finally let himself relax a little. “Sound off!” he called, just to double check that all his men were present and aware.

“Ace is here. Five out of ten,” Ezra murmured from Chris’s side, sinking to the ground and pressing a hand to his leg with a grimace. Chris gave him a nod, dropping to a knee to help.

“Eyes here. Everything’s shiny.” JD was obviously fine, as shiny meant no injuries.

“Medic calling in. Shiny.” Nathan was already headed to where Vin had fallen.

“Giant is shiny.” Josiah was coming their way, gun out and still trained on their group of baddies. 

“Mustang is shiny,” Buck said from around the corner, where he was presumably gathering up the contraband.

“Eagle is up. Seven out of ten,” Vin’s voice came from over by the crates.

“Probably closer to a five out of ten,” Nathan corrected. “We’re good to move him, though, Bear,” he said with a sigh. Chris gave a hum and refrained from rolling his eyes at the code name that he’d been given by the others when Judge Travis had stated the need for codenames in the first place. Papa Bear had been the first one they’d tried to label him with, but he’d protested enough that they’d trimmed it down to just Bear.

The warehouse was suddenly filled with many more people as police and other agents filed in, guns up and trained. And Chris looked up to yell some orders only for there to be a rather bright flash of light that left him sprawling on stone.

He snapped to attention the moment he heard Ezra’s cry of pain, and Vin’s gasp. The others were here too, wherever here was, because it definitely wasn’t the warehouse. “Down, stay down,” Chris snapped to both his chameleon and sniper. They were struggling to get up, but at his words settled down a little.

Nathan leaned over them both, Chris keeping his hands on both their shoulders to keep them still, and motioning for Buck to take point. Josiah stood, grabbing JD by the elbow to keep the kid with them. And Chris took a short moment to take a look around at their new surroundings. 

They were in a small cell, surrounded by others in similar cells and all their weapons had gone missing. There was a group of four military members, dressed in green BDUs, one out for the count. There was a group of three kids –meaning they looked younger than JD--, a girl and two boys covered in gore and blood and looking a little worse for wear. And there was another group of four, currently focused on the one that was half-dressed and bound by what looked like duct tape. He frowned a little, but the three struggling with the man looked more keen on helping him than hurting him so he let it go to focus on his two hurt agents.

Ezra had gone alarmingly pale and had curled in such a way to let Chris know that those shots to the chest had at the very least bruised some ribs. With Ezra’s luck, they had probably broken some as well. Nathan was focusing on stopping the bleeding from Ezra’s thigh, but the chameleon was just trying to breathe and didn’t even seem to notice what was going on at that moment. Shock and blood loss were beginning to take their toll. Vin was struggling to catch his breath in a way that indicated that he, too, had some broken ribs. Which wasn’t fun, as Vin and Ezra were both terrible patients but together were the bane of all hospitals in Colorado. 

“Holy crap, that’s the A-Team,” JD said softly, breaking the silence that had fallen after the initial commotion. Chris frowned; he’d heard of the A-Team, but those men had been gone for years. JD, though, had been enamored with them and had looked up everything he could. Especially when word of their innocence and pardons had come out a couple years ago.

And then one of the kids, the one with an eyepatch, was talking, and then the military man was answering, and things got even more confusing. Since when were he and his men missing for twenty years? That didn’t make any sense at all. 

“What mess?” the silver haired A-Team member asked, his voice low and menacing and Chris couldn’t help but agree. What mess indeed?


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well shucks. Fourteen people who were declared dead a long time ago. Well. Jack could work with that.

Jack frowned in consternation. The other teams were famous groups that had gone missing over the past three decades…actually almost a decade apart for each of them. Figures. He heaved a sigh, meeting the eyes of Colonel John Hannibal Smith before sweeping around to meet the eyes of Agent Chris Larabee, and the then the single eye of Xander Harris. He knew who each and every one of these men (and single lady, man were she and Sam outnumbered here) were, as entire teams of people didn’t just go missing without people noticing. 

“My name is Colonel Jack O’Neill, and my companions are Major Samantha Carter, Dr. Daniel Jackson and Teal’c. We’re an exploration team for the SGC.” He gave another soft sigh, knowing he was giving away some very important secrets, but at the same time, these people were stuck on the planet with them, so they’d have figured it out eventually. “We travel through what’s called a Stargate to explore other planets.”

There were murmurs at that, and Jack was sure he’d seen Xander roll his eye. “Yeah, yeah, I know. We’ll talk about all of that later. What’s important now is that this planet seems to like to gather ‘top teams’ and pit them against each other in hunting games. Also, it’s actually the year 2015 back home and all of you are thought to be dead.”

“Great. Demons aren’t enough now we’ve got aliens,” Xander grumbled, forcing himself into a seated position with a wince. “Okay, fine. I’m Xander Harris and my companions are Daniel “Oz” Osborn, and Faith Lehane. We work with the New Council to take out the ooglie-booglies that haunt the world that most people don’t know about and don’t care to know about. We were in Africa dealing with a situation and the year was 2005.”

Chris Larabee grumbled, patting the shoulder of one of his injured men and hauling himself to his feet. “Agent Chris Larabee, ATF out of Denver. My team,” he pointed to each one in turn. “Agent Buck Wilmington, Agent Josiah Sanchez, Agent JD Dunne, Agent Nathan Jackson, Agent Vin Tanner, and Agent Ezra Standish.” He shifted his stance, just a little. “We were in the middle of cleaning up a bust in Colorado Springs in the year of 1995.” He didn’t comment on the ‘ooglie-booglies’ that Xander had mentioned; you tended to see a lot when in combat, and all of his agents had seen the darker parts of the world, even JD.

The A-Team was a little preoccupied with their downed member, but Smith got to his feet and took a step closer to the bars. “John ‘Hannibal’ Smith. My team, H.M. Murdock, Templeton “Face” Peck and B.A. Baracus.” He glanced down to where B.A. was working on carefully removing the duct tape from around Face’s mouth and jaw. Murdock was tending to the stab wound, but Face wasn’t even moving so it was pretty safe to say that his XO was down for the count. “We were on a mission in Colorado that went sideways. And I’m pretty sure the year was 1985.” 

Jack nodded to himself, understanding sideways missions. That’s what had gotten all of them into this mess in the first place. He opened his mouth to say something but shut it with a snap as a crackling started up.

“Good to see you all getting acquainted,” a voice echoed through the room and everyone stilled. Jack frowned, knowing the voice belonged to the man who had brought them all here. “You may call me the Game Master. Tomorrow morning all four of your teams will be transported to random locations. From there it is up to you to find the weapons and supplies that have been dropped. Your goal is to be the last team standing and I do mean that literally. The military team against the military hating Council team against the ex-military criminals against the lawmen. Should be exciting. Good luck and enjoy your night.”

The silence was pretty much deafening, because now they knew that the Game Master could hear everything they said to each other. Jack cleared his throat, sitting down and settling back near where Daniel was restlessly sleeping. The wound in his leg was definitely infected, but there was little they could do about it here, and the other teams looked to be in if not the same, then worse positions. 

JD Dunne started up some idle chatter, which was perfect, really. Jack started tapping on the floor, just loud enough for the others to hear over the chatter, which JD, Buck and Murdock were keeping a steady stream of. Chris and Hannibal started tapping back, clearly recognizing the morse code. 

A glance at the youngest member of the Mag 7 team let Jack know that JD knew exactly what he was doing. Cool. He liked smart kids, especially smart kids that could make distractions. _NOT PLAY GAME_

_NO_ Well, morse code had never sounded more fierce then when tapped out by Chris Larabee.

_MEET UP. TAKE OUT GAME MASTER_

_GOOD PLAN_ Hannibal was frowning though, seemingly absently tapping his fingers against the bars of his cage. _HOW_

_CAREFUL_ Jack flashed a quick, sardonic grin. Carefully, that’s how. And then he’d get them all home and figure out what to do with the time-travelers then. Because they obviously couldn’t go back to their times, considering they’d been declared dead. 

_WHAT ABOUT THE KIDS_

Right. Chris had a point. How were they going to let the Council kids know the plan. 

Xander shifted from where he’d piled with Oz and Faith, all three leaning against each other. And then his started tapping his foot in agitation. Or well… _WE GOOD. KNOW PLAN._

Huh. Kid was good. Jack remembered when the Council team had gone missing. It was just a few years before the SGC started up, but he’d had high enough clearance to be aware of what the Council was. The Slayer, the tiny blond one that was said to be the Longest Slayer (because yes, at that point there had been over three hundred) and the Red Witch had practically stormed through the world looking for these three kids. Nothing had ever been found. Much like nothing had been found after a flash bomb had gone off at a bust and Mag 7 had disappeared. Or when the A-Team had just vanished from a job. 

There’d been a few conspiracy theorists that had cried ‘aliens’ and Jack was about to start giggling over the fact that they’d been right. 

He settled back, nodding at Sam and Teal’c and ignoring the jabber that was still going on. Dunne really could keep a stream going. Kid seemed to be an A-Team fan. Murdock was loving it, though, answering any question that was being asked, although maybe not with honest answers. The man looked to have a few screws loose. Which…fair.

Daniel groaned and Jack moved his attention to his archeologist. “Danny? You good?”

“Jack?”

“Yeah, buddy.”

“I can honestly say I don’t like it here.” Jack exchanged slightly amused looks with Sam, and Teal’c raised an eyebrow. Daniel shifted, his eyes squinting open as he shuffled around and pushed himself up. He blinked at the sight of all the new people in the cells. “Who…”

“I’ll fill you in in a bit, Daniel,” Jack murmured. Sam scooted a little closer, prodding at Daniel’s leg a bit and whispering an apology at Daniel’s yelp.

The cells had gone a little bit quiet at that point, JD having apparently run out of questions. Until Xander shifted again, staring into the A-Team’s cell. “What kind of dog is that?” he asked, his chin resting on Oz’s shoulder. His brow was furrowed a little, and he looked just a tad concerned.

Murdock blinked, looking behind him and then giving a massive grin. “Who Billy? He’s a Dobermann mutt.”

B.A. gave a long groan. “Aw man, the fool’s crazy is catching.”

“Kid, there’s no dog there,” Buck said from his own cell, leaning against the bars. 

Vin shifted slightly, just enough to be able to peer into the cell and frown. “Sure there is Bucklin,” he drawled softly. “Medium sized dog. Black. Real scary lookin’. It’s there. Just a Spirit Guide. Not used to seein’ White Folks with one of ‘em though.” 

Jack raised an eyebrow, eyes wandering around the groups. He couldn’t see any dog, but apparently some people could which…okay, he’d seen weirder. “Danny?” Daniel had been ascended once, perhaps he could see this mysterious dog.

“There’s something there,” Daniel whispered, head tilted. “Can’t quite make it out. But I don’t think it’s quite like the Spirit Guides our good agent is talking about. Close, but something a bit different. Something….darker.” Oh good, Daniel had picked up on the badges and tactical gear the ATF agents were wearing. Smart cookie, that one.

“Probably,” Murdock shrugged. “Billy just likes me is all. And Facey. Faceman can feel him too.” B.A. rolled his eyes but did nothing but grunt. Hannibal gave a grin, realizing that Murdock was telling the truth. He’d caught Face petting the air before when Murdock wasn’t around, usually when he thought no one was looking. “How can you see him, kid?”

“Boytoy here is known as The One Who Sees,” Faith drawled, her husky voice startling a few of the men in the room. Xander gave a soft groan and rolled his eye, burrowing his face against Oz’s back. “He Sees what most people don’t.” 

“Huh.” Murdock chewed on that thought for a while before shrugging again. “Billy, go to Faceman will ya?” he asked, pointing the invisible dog towards their unconscious teammate. They’d gotten all the tape off and made a makeshift bandage across the stab wound with Hannibal’s handkerchief, but Face still hadn’t woken. He’d flinched at every touch, though, his touch-aversion acting up something fierce even in unconsciousness, so they’d bundled him up in Murdock’s jacket and left him alone on the floor for the time being. There was a moment and then Face shifted, curling around something that not many could see. 

The lights in the cell block flickered and then went out, drowning the place in darkness. Jack grumbled, patting Daniel’s shoulder. “Guess it’s time for sleep, boys and girls. We’re gonna have a long day tomorrow.”

And wasn’t that an understatement.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shelter and water. That was the first step.

Morning came a little too early and with a jolt as each team was unceremoniously dumped into the wild. For an alien planet, Hannibal wasn’t too displeased to see that it looked a lot like Earth. Lots of trees. 

He was very displeased by the pained cry Face had given at the landing and the startled yelps of both Murdock and B.A. Being teleported just wasn’t something they could get used to. Hannibal was at Face’s side in an instant, meeting those wide blue eyes with his own calm gaze. He wasn’t happy to see the wide, bewildered and pained look on his XO’s face as he rarely ever saw it. Had hardly seen it since they’d escaped the prison camps in ‘Nam. It wasn’t a good look on anyone, but it almost broke his heart to see the kid with it again.

“B.A., Murdock, scout around. We need water and shelter first,” Hannibal snapped, hand on Face’s shoulder, keeping the man down and still. He didn’t break eye contact either.

“Han’bal?” Face rasped, licking his lips a little and shifting to look around. B.A. and Murdock had both slipped silently into the trees, wary and observant. They needed water at the very least; Face was pretty much in a desperate way. He was dehydrated, that much was obvious, and Hannibal wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t eaten anything since the Marleys had grabbed him either. 

“Easy kid,” Hannibal muttered, looking him over. Face was still wearing Murdock’s jacket, but his pants were soaked with blood down one leg, and he still didn’t have any shoes. Walking through alien woods without shoes was going to be a problem. 

Face swallowed heavily, eyes locked on something above them, frowning fiercely. “Aliens?” he asked, lips quirking a bit.

“You were listening?” Hannibal asked, a little surprised; he hadn’t thought that Face had been conscious when they’d been removing the tape. He definitely hadn’t been by the time they’d gotten it all off. 

“Little bit. Thought maybe I was dreaming.” Face gave a brief cough, eyes scrunching shut as that aggravated his sore chest. He didn’t have any obvious breaks to his ribs, but there was some rather heavy bruising that would hurt for some time. “But…two moons. And I didn’t hit my head so…”

Hannibal glanced up and saw, through the trees, the two moons that Face had been staring at, big and obvious in the blue morning sky. “Yeah. We were kidnapped by aliens to play some messed up hunting game.”

“Huh.” Face’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, before he forced them open again at Hannibal’s insistent pats to his cheek. “I’m good. I’m ‘wake.”

“Uh huh, let’s keep it that way for a little bit, son,” Hannibal muttered. “You really scared us there, Face.”

“Sorry.”

Hannibal shook his head. “Not your fault, kid. You okay to sit up?”

“Don’t know.” Face made the effort though, so Hannibal helped him sit up, holding him steady as he breathed through the dizziness and pain. “What’s the plan?” the younger gasped.

“Find water and shelter and bunker down for a little bit,” Hannibal replied. “Then meet up with the other teams and take out the Game Master and head back home.” He didn’t mention that they’d been declared dead decades ago; he wasn’t sure if Face had been aware for that part of the conversation or how to even bring it up. 

“Too bad. Had a date lined up for Friday,” Face rasped with a hint of a smile. Well then, if he was good enough to joke then Hannibal could relax a little, even if the kid was still a little feverish and slightly out of it.

“She pretty?” Hannibal asked, settling back and keeping a careful hand on Face’s shoulder. 

“They’re all pretty,” Face replied, giving his commanding officer a look. Hannibal grinned, shaking his head. That was something that Amy Allen had never been able to wrap her head around, Face’s constant dates and flirting. She’d once asked him just how many notches he had on his bedpost only for him to reply that he didn’t have any, as he’d never taken one of his dates to bed. She hadn’t understood and he hadn’t bothered to explain, and it had been one of the few times that Face had managed to get her speechless.

Vietnam had messed them all up a little bit, Hannibal mused to himself. Murdock was the most obvious, of course, but Face was just as muddled as the pilot was at times. And his times in the prison camps had completely destroyed any want for a physically intimate relationship for the man.

Being pretty wasn’t a good thing when stuck in a prison camp, after all.

But Face had once said that he liked taking women out and treating them special. He liked making them smile and feel pretty and letting them have a fun time without them feeling like they needed to give something back. A little making out was usually all that ended up occurring, even if sometimes the woman wanted more. Face had hardly ever left a broken heart though, even when he left the lady with little more than some fond memories. It was fun and it was safe, mostly, and then Face could come back to the team. He also liked the game of it, the con of sweeping a woman off her feet. And if it helped in many of their missions, all the better.

Face was also extremely touch-starved from both his childhood and his time in the army. But it presented strangely, where at times he craved attention and touch and others he could hardly stand it. Made his skin crawl, he said, and he’d swat at any offending person that got too close. Usually Murdock. Other times, Face would get a little lost in himself and cuddle up with whoever was closest, also usually Murdock, but B.A. had gotten in the habit of sitting on the edge of his chair when working on small projects, so that Face could curl up behind him if he wanted. 

They all had their idiosyncrasies, but Murdock’s and Face’s were just the most obvious. Face just tried to hide his around outsiders while Murdock seemed to get a kick out of making everyone off balance. 

Right now, though, Face was leaning against Hannibal and trying to gain his bearings a bit more. Alien planets. Sure. He could wrap his head around that one, just give him a little time. He may look like just a pretty face, but you didn’t become a Green Beret with just looks. 

Speaking of which… “Murdock said there were six dead men…”

Face grunted. “Wasn’t gonna let them touch me again,” he muttered, slumping a little. He felt bad, as he’d once said that he hated killing anyone, tried very hard not to kill anyone after leaving Vietnam. They all did, for all that they were constantly getting into fire fights and all; they tried to aim for non-lethal parts. Tried really hard not to actively take lives themselves, although they’d sometimes set it up for the really bad people to die by someone else’s hands. And, sometimes, they were angry enough to just blow the whole place up and not worry about the casualties. “And the Marleys found it funny that I kept killing them, so they kept sending in more.”

“Hmm,” Hannibal hummed, patting Face’s shoulder. “How?”

“Did I ever tell you about the pretty little redhead I met in Missouri? Natalia?” Face knew that he’d told Murdock the story, but he couldn’t remember if he’d told the colonel or not. Hannibal shook his head. “Oh. Well. She was a secret agent. Worked with the CIA, I think. I showed her how to build a flame thrower and she showed me how to kill someone with just my legs if I was ever tied up. That was a good date. Fun.”

Hannibal blinked. Well...that wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Okay then. “What else have you learned on those dates of yours?” he wondered.

“Now, now, Hannibal, that would be telling,” Face grinned weakly. Hannibal chuckled and then patted Face’s shoulder again, getting to his feet. There was a familiar bird call that didn’t sound anything like any other bird they’d heard on this planet so far. Face grimaced and struggled to his feet, stumbling a little as his injured leg faltered. 

Hannibal was quick to grab him, throwing an arm around Face’s waist and pulling Face’s arm over his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go see what the others managed to find.”

By the time Hannibal had managed to find where B.A. and Murdock had ended up, Face was unconscious again and being piggy-backed. The man had given all he could, but dehydration, malnutrition, fever, shock and blood loss had taken it out of him, and he’d faltered about ten minutes from their destination. 

“Home sweet home, boss,” Murdock said, swinging his arms wide in the entrance to the cave he and B.A. had found. There was a small stream of water trickling just outside the front of it too. Perfect. This would do for the moment. 

Hannibal grunted, his last cigar clenched between his teeth and B.A. stepped forward to carefully take Face from him, carrying him inside the cave. “Found a bag of medical supplies, Hannibal. Sucker left it out there for us. Don’t know if we can trust it but we ain’t got much choice right now.”

Hannibal sighed a bit, running a hand over his head and shoving his cigar into his pocket. “Good job. Let’s get settled and then see if we can’t find any more of these supposed supply packages that should be left out around here somewhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Face asexual, which is not in character with what the show has him as. But...I also kinda wanna make him qpp with Murdock, so this works better for me. Plus, I made it trauma induced, so perhaps Face won't always be ace. Who knows in this series.
> 
> Also did you catch the Black Widow? XP No. This won't have any MCU in it. But I just couldn't help myself.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the Soldier memories were a great boon.

Xander gave an animalistic snarl as he hit the ground. Faith had managed to roll to her feet instantly, and Oz was shaking his head with a soft, almost soundless growl, crouched in front of them. But Xander stayed down, his back flaring in pain that had him worried about infection and poison. Who knew what those demons they had fought had on their claws, and he’d never gotten the chance to clean the injuries. 

“X-man?” Faith breathed, looking around them at the trees and rocks and large cliff face they’d landed near. It looked remarkably like anywhere in the Rocky Mountains back on Earth. The two large moons hanging low in the sky were rather telling, though. 

“I’m here, Faith,” Xander breathed, taking stock of himself and then pushing himself up to his feet. Oz caught his elbow as he stumbled. “Just been a really long couple of days.”

“No kidding,” the slayer scoffed, reaching up to redo her ponytail. Her shirt had been shredded just beneath her bra line, but she hadn’t been injured so she’d ignored it. It made Xander frown, though, since she wasn’t exactly dressed for this ‘game’, in half a shirt and leather pants. Then again, his own shirt was in dire straits and his jeans weren’t much better, and Oz was left with just the black jeans and vest he’d been wearing earlier too. None of them were dressed for camping or whatever. Not long term.

“Does this Game Master really expect us to hunt down these other teams and kill them?” Oz asked, stepping just a little closer as his eyes darkened just a bit.

Xander hummed. “The Game Master does. But we’ve made other plans. Gonna meet up with the others, wherever they are and then work to take out the Game Master and get back home.”

Faith frowned at him. “When did everyone come up with that plan?”

“When that JD guy was asking Captain Murdock about a pink Cadillac in the Vietnam jungles,” Xander said with a smile. His Soldier had only met Lieutenant Peck, Captain Murdock and Sergeant Baracus in passing, but he’d known Colonel Smith reasonably well, and knew the skills of the A-Team. They’d been near legendary in ‘Nam. Xander’s Soldier had never believed that the men had been responsible for the Hanoi Bank theft, and Xander himself had been rather relieved to find that they’d been posthumously pardoned for the crime they’d never committed once evidence of their innocence had come out in the early nineties. (Xander had heard of the A-Team growing up but hadn’t given them much thought before the Halloween Costume Incident. He’d looked into them rather thoroughly after that, though.)

Oz shot him a look, a raised eyebrow enough to get across his question. “Morse code,” Xander shrugged and then cringed as it pulled the cuts on his back. “And yes, Lieutenant Peck did manage to get a pink Caddy into the jungle. Don’t ask me how though.” 

Faith hummed. “Your soldier?” she asked, brushing her fingers along his shoulder as she eyed his torn up back. 

“Yup.”

“Cool.” The Shaman that had freed and merged the Hyena had also solidified the Solider for Xander, keeping those memories fresh and accessible. It wasn’t always a good thing; Vietnam had been a bad time and place and the nightmares that came from it weren’t pretty. But the skills were invaluable. 

“Probably come in handy for this fiasco though,” Xander replied, eyeing the ground and narrowing his eye a little. “I have a feeling that Mr. Game Master isn’t going to like us breaking the rules.”

Faith gave a feral grin. “Good.” And then her face fell. “Xander, we’ve been ‘dead’ for ten years. What’s it going to be like when we get back home?”

Xander paused, focusing on his breathing for a moment as he watched Oz pace the clearing they were standing in. They’d been gone for ten years, meaning that they’d never returned in that time. So, they obviously couldn’t go back to their own time unless they wanted to risk the time stream being disrupted. And they knew enough about magic and physics and the like to know that that wouldn’t be a good thing. “I don’t know. We’ll make it work though.” They had each other, at least.

Oz and Faith both hummed softly and Xander let the sound wash over him. “Okay,” he said after a moment. “We’re, sadly, the most mobile of any of the groups right now so I think we should try and find the others. There’s no telling how far apart we were dropped.”

“Can’t be too far,” Oz said succinctly. Which, true. The Game Master wouldn’t get much entertainment value from having people wandering around in the woods. He’d want them close enough to be able to attack each other, after all. 

“Full moons tonight, probably,” Faith said, glancing up to the sky again. Of course, she didn’t exactly know how the moon cycle worked here, but they definitely looked full in the sky right now. And who knew how that would affect Oz’s wolf and Xander’s Hyena, who was always a little more active in the full moon.

“Lovely,” Xander grumped, running his fingers along Oz’s arm as the man passed him. “I’m getting too old for this crap,” he muttered.

“You’re only 22,” Faith grinned. It was a sharp, feral grin that left her fingers twitching and had her bouncing in her boots. And man was she glad she’d gone with the steel capped combat boots for their last fight, because she’d almost decided to go in with her stiletto thigh-highs, as they made great weapons when applied with enough force. But tromping through a forest in stilettos did not sound like a good time. 

“Old enough,” Xander grumbled. “Let’s move out. See if we can’t find some of those supply drops.” He shook his head, readjusted the strap of his eyepatch and loosened his shoulders. “Hyena’s gonna run for a bit, guys,” he warned. And then he let go.

They’d probably made a bit of a spectacle, to be honest, darting through the woods the way they were. Faith had no problem with keeping up with her boys, and actually, she loved when they let their canine sides loose, as it meant that she could go a little wild herself. Xander cackled a bit, giving little yips when he got ahead of them, scouting out possible ways to go. Faith and Oz yipped back, adopting the Hyena pack calls as their own, as they had over the years in Africa. None of the other Council members had ever understood the pack dynamic they had going on, but it worked for them. 

Xander pulled them to a halt over a duffel bag that was at the base of a tree. Oz watched the horizon in silence as Faith sidled up next to him and the two of them carefully opened the pack. Four canteen-like containers filled with water (which they happily guzzled down one of, sharing between the three of them), some dried meat and two guns with a good amount of ammo. 

“M-16 assault rifle,” Xander murmured, running his fingers down the barrel of one weapon. “And a Baretta M9.” He was frowning heavily. “Where’d they get Earth weapons?”

“You know,” Faith said, eyeing the guns with a scowl. There was something about being a slayer that made her have an aversion to more modern weapons. Buffy had been the same way, although she’d happily used the rocket launcher on the Judge. “I’ve been thinking about that. What if we’re not on a different planet, but in a different dimension?”

“Colonel O’Neill said they travelled to planets,” Oz spoke up, looking around him, hands shoved in his pockets. “Can’t see them getting that wrong.”

Faith scowled. “I’m not saying they did, yo. Not always, at least. What if their gate thingy can get to both planets and dimensions, and we’re in some sort of Earth-side Hell dimension? It would explain the whole Game thing. You know how demons are. And its ability to grab things from Earth.”

Xander nodded slowly, taking up the weapons, loading them, and checking the safety on each one before stashing the M9 in his waistband and using the strap to keep the M-16 over his shoulder and across his aching back. “Makes sense. Means we’ll need to shut down his operation even more though.”

“Our job,” Oz grumbled. 

“Uh huh,” Faith sighed. “If it is a demon and not an alien than it’s our job to make sure he stops stealing people from Earth. Especially for some twisted games.”

“Grab the bag, we can use it,” Xander ordered, eye narrowing and flashing green as his Alpha side reared a bit. “Let’s see if we can find the other teams and then we’ll worry about taking out the Game Master.”


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With two injured, Chris couldn't see any way out of this without splitting up.

Ezra had gone feverish during the night, and Chris wasn’t very happy to see him not even notice when they’d been dumped into a forest in the morning. Vin just groaned, curling around himself, but Ezra didn’t offer so much as a peep. Nathan had that pinched, worried look he got when things were getting a little out of his control, and that just made Chris twitchy in a way he didn’t want to be. Not right now.

“Two moons,” JD muttered, looking up through the veil of trees. “Guess they weren’t lying, then.”

“We meeting with the others? Gonna take down this Game Master?” Buck asked, shifting to his feet. 

“Yes,” Chris grunted, watching with narrowed eyes as Nathan helped Vin up and Josiah scooped Ezra into his arms. “Let’s move.”

“Chris,” JD murmured a while later, stepping up closer. They’d been walking for about an hour at this point, and Vin was starting to stumble. “What are we gonna do? The Colonel said we’ve been missing for twenty years.”

“We’ll make it work JD,” Chris said, glancing over to Buck, who just shrugged. 

There were sighs all around as they traipsed through the woods, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary, which honestly could be anything considering they were on a different planet. 

“The Council…” Josiah said softly, frowning down at Ezra who was still unconscious in his arms. “The Colonel said the New Council. Did they reform or something?”

“The kid with the green hair was a werewolf,” Vin grumbled, his arm wrapped around his chest and the other thrown over Nathan’s shoulder for support. “So’s they gotta have reformed. Old Council would never have worked with a ‘wolf.”

Josiah hummed and gave a nod. They’d all had their fair share of adventures with the darkness, even JD when he’d been on the force in Boston. Josiah had worked out of the Vatican for a while, on a hunting team when he was in his twenties. Those in the military had seen their fair share, and Nathan had grown up with stories of the Old Ones and the Old Ways. 

Time travel and alien kidnapping though. That was something completely new, and Chris didn’t like it. Not one bit. At the very least he wasn’t here alone, and they had a bit of a plan put together working with the other teams. They’d get a better one later, once they’d all met up again. 

Ezra murmured something then, shifting in Josiah’s arms and they all pulled to a stop. Josiah carefully lowered the conman down and Nathan moved to check him over, setting Vin down on a large boulder. 

“Hey,” Vin called after a moment, looking back behind the boulder. “There’s a crate here.”

Chris motioned for Buck and Josiah to check it out, Nathan having commandeered JD’s help to check the bandages on Ezra’s leg.

The crate didn’t have any weapons aside from a few knives, but there was a good amount of food and water jugs. A few changes of shirts and two sets of boots. No pants though. And no medical supplies, which was a little annoying. But it was more than they’d had to start with, so they would take it. 

“We should stop, Chris,” Nathan muttered after a moment. “Ez’s fever is bad. And Vin has a broken rib that I’m afraid will start shifting.” And that would be really, really bad. 

“We need to meet up with the others,” Chris grumbled back, and JD shot him a look. He knew that look; it was a look that JD gave when he thought that Chris was being stupid. The kid would never tell him to his face, but he didn’t need to because that look said it all. Chris sighed. “Okay. Let’s find somewhere to bunker down and heal up a bit. Then we’ll find the others.”

It took them another forty-five minutes or so to finally find a good location. A group of trees had grown in such a way that their roots had created a bit of a cave, large enough for the seven men to settle if they crowded a bit. There was a nearby stream, as well, which was rather lucky all considered. 

Ezra, by this point, was a little more aware of his surroundings, but wasn’t doing well in any sense. Which made Chris wonder about the other teams. The one guy from the SGC had hardly been conscious at all in the cells, and Peck from the A-Team had been in a really bad way. Not to mention the Council kid with the torn up back. Chris just wasn’t sure the Game Master had thought through his plan if he expected all the teams to actively want to fight each other.

Actually, what was up with that idea anyway? How many people, when kidnapped from their home planet and told to kill other people, actually did that? Was it really a plan that worked, because frankly, it seemed like a stupid one. Chris was surprised that no one else had ever tried taking the guy out. Or you know, that everyone who had tried had failed before. There was that possibility.

He stared out the opening of their cavern, arms crossed and fingers tapping. “Buck?”

“Yeah, hoss?” Buck said, sidling closer. 

“We’re going to need to find more weapons,” he said, eyes narrowing as he gazed into the forest. Buck nodded, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t want to split up. We don’t know what the Game Master really has planned for us, but we might have to.”

“Makes sense, Chris,” Buck nodded, looking back to where Vin and Ezra had curled up next to each other. Vin was resting easy enough, but Ezra was restless from the fever and blood loss. Nathan was trying to get the two to eat some of the dried food that had been in the crate. There’d been meat and fruit of some kind that they couldn’t recognize, but they’d figured that the Game Master wouldn’t give them anything that would poison them. That wouldn’t make for good entertainment.

Buck sighed, running a hand along his mustache. “I can take JD and Josiah out in a few hours. See if we can track down another team.”

Chris thought for a moment. “Take Nathan and JD. Nate can see if there’s any herbs out there that can help with Ez’s fever. Josiah’s better at keeping the kids calm.” Kids being the two injured agents; they lost all sense of their adulthood when they were hurt…and sometimes when they weren’t. 

Buck huffed a laugh and then nodded. “Sure thing, buddy. Just give us an hour or two to rest up and we’ll be on our way.”


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bird calls are all the rage now days, didn't you know?

The moment they hit the ground, Jack had his team up and moving. He didn’t know how the Game Master worked, but he knew how the usual madmen worked, and moving was their best option at the moment. Daniel was being helped along by Teal’c, the big guy being incredibly gentle while still looking extremely menacing.

“Let’s go,” Jack said, urging them deeper into the woods. He was really missing the feel of his P90 at his side, but the Game Master hadn’t bothered with giving them their weapons back. Presumably they’d find some caches of them in the woods somewhere, but that was more luck than a guarantee. 

Daniel gave a light chuckle, a little out of breath, and Jack whirled around, pointing one finger at him. “Ah! Don’t say it!”

Daniel blinked large, innocent blue eyes up at him. “Don’t say what, Jack?” he asked, and Sam snorted softly by his side. Yeah, the archeologist was definitely playing games right now.

“You were going to say ‘This reminds me of the time…’ and I really don’t want to get into that right now,” Jack snapped, eyes narrowed. 

“But sir,” Sam said, her gaze sweeping through the trees. “This does, actually remind me of many times…”

“Indeed,” Teal’c said, and was that a smile? Was his team actually amused by the circumstances, really? 

Jack groaned, shaking his head and turning himself back around. “Not now guys. We gotta get rid of this Game Master and get back to the ‘Gate.”

“And what about the other teams?” Sam asked, and her hands twitched. She, obviously, was feeling the loss of her weapon just as he was. 

“We bring them with us,” Jack said evenly. He blinked, turning to Daniel. “Right, I need to tell you who’s joining us for this game of ours.” So he talked for a while, watching as Daniel got steadily paler, and as Sam’s eyes got more flinty and as Teal’c grew more stoic. 

“So…” Daniel gasped a bit, his leg crumbling beneath him, although Teal’c held him steady. “We’re going to take fourteen people home with us, all of which have been declared dead, some of which for over two decades? And then what?”

“Can we just focus on getting home first?” Jack asked, a little exasperated. “We’ll figure out the rest later.”

“Just one more question,” Daniel panted, looking up at Jack expectantly. Jack raised an eyebrow, very tempted to put his hands on his hips. “Can we take a break?”

Heaving a sigh, Jack gave a short nod, and Teal’c carefully lowered Daniel to the ground, where he curled over his injured leg. The wound was just a little above his right knee, about three inches long and entirely too deep for Jack’s liking. They’d gotten the bleeding stopped last night, but the area around the injury was red and puffy and obviously inflamed. The bright patches on Daniel’s cheeks just confirmed the fever. 

Sam was pacing the woods a few yards ahead, eyeing the undergrowth for any sign of anything, really. “Sir!” she called a moment later.

When Jack joined her, he frowned at the cache of weapons she was crouching in front of. An entire duffel bag filled to the brim with guns, knives…and was that an ax? Two P-90’s. A few handguns of varying types. Some M-16 and M-60’s. And two sniper rifles, which Jack wasn’t very familiar with, but Sam had whistled at the sight of them in the bag. “A Barrett M82A1 and a Mauser SP66,” she said softly, stroking the larger weapon. “Nice.” He didn’t want to think about the fact that they were all Earth weapons. About the fact that there were no staff weapons or Zats or anything that could remotely be ‘alien’.

“Look heavy,” Jack commented, instead of thinking about those things he didn’t want to think about. 

“They are, sir,” Sam replied. She shrugged. “The M8 weighs about twenty pounds alone. But man, if you’re able to shoot it it’s a good one.” Sam, though, wasn’t a sniper and neither was Jack. He cast his memory back to about what he knew of the other teams and then shrugged. He was pretty sure that the M7 team had a sniper on board, and maybe something about Peck being sniper trained? He couldn’t remember. They’d take all the weapons, though. Someone would find a use for them.

Jack called Teal’c over, after he and Sam claimed two of the P-90’s, feeling more comfortable about the situation now. Teal’c took a look at the bag, grabbed one of the pistols and then carefully shouldered the rest. Jack would have to take over carrying Daniel. They’d refrain from giving the archeologist a weapon until he was sure their friend was seeing straight. 

“Okay, we’re armed,” Jack said, standing straighter. He ignored the grumbling of his empty stomach. They could find food later. Water was more important, honestly, and they really did need to see if they could find the other teams. 

One arm wrapped firmly around Daniel’s waist, the other hand on his gun, Jack urged them further. Sam took point and Teal’c was watching their backs. Sam stopped after a moment, eyes narrowed as she gazed at a specific tree. “Sir?” she asked. “Is that…?”

A very subtle twisting of sticks. Would look natural to most people, but to those trained in special forces. Well. 

“Good work, Major,” Jack muttered. “Let’s go.”

Twenty minutes later he was giving a bird call, hoping that maybe someone would be around to answer. Daniel shifted at his side, frowning. “The dog, Jack,” he whispered, narrowing his eyes at something that Jack couldn’t see.

“Billy?” Jack whispered back, motioning for Sam and Teal’c to move closer. There was an answering bird call. A duck, actually. A really, really good impression of a duck, honestly.

“The dog, Jack,” Daniel said, raising his arm to point in a specific direction. “I can’t see it too well, but it’s there, and it wants us to follow.” 

So, they did, with Daniel telling them where to go and Jack giving bird calls every few minutes. 

And when they slipped into the cave, near a stream, they were met with the A-Team. Teal’c carefully lowered the duffel bag, giving a respectful nod to the large black man wearing far too much gold for an alien planet. Or Earth really, but whatever. To each their own and all that.

“Good job, Billy,” Murdock crowed softly, not moving from where he was carefully holding Lieutenant Peck. “I told ya he’d find them Hannibal! And lookit that! Billy brought them right here to us!”

“You did tell us, Murdock,” Hannibal grinned. “Colonel,” he said, nodding to Jack.

“Colonel,” Jack nodded back, smirking. “How’s your man?” he asked, gently setting Daniel down and letting the man rest. Daniel let his head thunk back against the wall, gratefully taking the small bottle of water that Hannibal had offered. It looked like a medicine bottle, honestly, and that made Jack a little hopeful that this team had found some supplies as well. 

Hannibal turned to Murdock with a worried frown, and the pilot shrugged a little, shushing his friend who was muttering in agitation. He had Face cradled in his arms, probably not even noticing that he was rocking the man. “Fever’s real bad,” Murdock replied. 

“Fool’s out of his mind, right now,” B.A. muttered, and despite the harsh words, the look of worry was telling. “Stuck back in ‘Nam.” Which probably explained his position with Murdock right now, to be honest. It was better to keep the man calm and held than to let him get any more lost in pain-filled feverish delusions.

“We got some water and medicine in him,” Hannibal replied. “Cleaned his leg. But…” he shrugged. “Your man?”

“Needs some water and medicine,” Jack said evenly. “And needs his leg cleaned.” He frowned, knowing just how intense the clearing of infection could be. Peck was clearly out of it, his pant leg cut off mid-thigh, the injury wrapped in bandages that were tinged just the lightest pink. They’d have to do the same to Daniel’s leg, and frankly the Colonel wasn’t looking forward to it. He hated to cause his friends more pain.

Sam shifted a little, glancing out the cave. She licked her lips and looked at the trees. “I wonder if any of the birds here are good to eat,” she said softly. Because they needed food, and Daniel and Face needed something more than just water and medicine. 

“Bird’s a bird,” Jack shrugged. He looked around them, glad that they’d at least found one team and shelter and water all in one fell swoop. Just two more to go. “Alright…why don’t you and Sergeant Baracus try to find us some food, if that’s okay with you guys?” he asked, not really wanting to step on any toes.

Hannibal eyed him warily, and Jack was suddenly reminded that the last time these men had been seen, they’d been hunted by the army still. “Sure,” he said, though, and B.A. gave a fierce scowl before stomping over to the bag and digging through it for a suitable weapon. He pocketed a knife and took up a handgun, although he’d obviously been lingering over one of the M-90’s. 

Sam just smiled at him, jerking her head to the side to lead the way out of the cave. 

Jack sat, dragging the medical supplies that Hannibal had pushed towards him even closer. Daniel was breathing harshly, and Jack wanted to get his leg properly cleaned and bandaged before the fever took his man down completely. “You know,” he drawled, using a knife to cut a few bandages, letting Daniel swallow the pills that would hopefully put at least a dent in the pain. “I was really pleased when the evidence of your innocence came out,” he said.

Hannibal froze but didn’t make any other move. Murdock just shifted, just a little before ducking his head to whisper to Face. 

“You guys were legends in the army, ya know,” Jack continued, his voice soft as he eyed Daniel, waiting for the moment he could start the process of clearing the infection from the man’s leg. “So, when they said that you were innocent in…oh 1992 or so? That was good for all of us that idolized you guys. Your dishonorable discharges were revoked, and you were all given posthumous awards. It made international news.” So many people had turned up to the funerals. So many people coming out of the woodwork with tales of how the A-Team had helped them out. Hundreds. Thousands maybe. From all over the world. That journalist Amy whoever had worked with them in the past, but even she hadn’t known all the people they’d helped. They’d been active for ten years, after all, before they disappeared.

Hannibal grunted and then turned away, moving towards his two men at the back of the cave. Jack didn’t blame him; that kind of news wasn’t something that could just be taken lightly after all. 

Jack sighed, glancing up at Daniel’s pale face. Yeah, none of this could really be taken lightly.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Full moons are weird. Two full moons are weirder.

The sun was setting, which was really, really annoying. Because with the setting sun, came the rising moons. The moons rose earlier here. And they were definitely full.

Oz fell, groaning and whimpering. Xander crouched next to him, frowning darkly, eye flashing from deep brown to violent green and back again. Faith was standing just a little way off, knowing Oz’s Wolf, and how the Wolf needed to be confronted by their Alpha first, before she could step up. There’d been a few too many close calls in the past, before they’d figured out a way to make everything work.

Xander watched, waiting for Oz to come back to himself, but as his usual gorilla/wolfy self. Only, the change wasn’t stopping where he was used to it stopping, and Xander bit back a curse. Faith’s face was paler than usual in the golden light of the setting sun too, recognizing that something was wrong. 

Finally, finally, Oz settled, and Xander tilted his head, studying his companion. He hated the word boyfriend (and the word girlfriend for that matter) as they seemed too juvenile for what they were. He never used it. He also didn’t like the word ‘partner’ though, since there were three of them. And ‘lover’ seemed too crass. They hadn’t figured out the right words, but it hadn’t mattered to them to try and figure it out.

“Pretty,” Faith drawled softly, staring at the panting wolf. 

And Oz was definitely a wolf. There was nothing even remotely ‘were’ about him, except for maybe the size. He was much bigger than any wolf Xander had ever seen, not that he’d had a lot of chances to see wolves. “Is it odd that I’ve seen more lions in my life than wolves?” he asked Faith, reaching out to run a hand through Oz’s thick red fur. 

Faith raised an eyebrow, watching the interaction. There was none of the usual growling or posturing that Xander and Oz usually delved into in the beginning of the full moon cycle. In fact, Oz looked downright peaceful. “We’ve seen a lot of things more than we’ve seen wolves, Xan,” she answered, stepping forward. 

Oz shook his fur out, stretching and clambering to his feet. He was nearly up to Xander’s ribs at shoulder height, and the amount of sheer muscle on him would have made him look terrifying if not for the doggy grin he had, tongue hanging out of his mouth. Xander glanced to the moons. “Two moons to get the full merge then,” he muttered to himself. “How is it that he’s so tiny as a human but so large as a wolf?”

“Personality means more to the wolf?” Faith shrugged, just as intrigued. Although, to be fair, she was gazing at Xander in concern; he seemed a little off.

They all started at the sound of a gunshot not too far from them. Maybe a few kilometers away. Another gunshot echoed shortly after. Faith shot a look at Xander, but he seemed calm. “Hunting,” he said softly. She shot him another, more frustrated look. “I think they’re hunting for food. Not each other.” He shifted on his feet, still crouched, shuddering and aimed a green-eyed glare towards the moons again.

“Five by five, Xan-dear?” Faith asked, adopting Oz’s usual pet-name for him. He gave another shudder, squeezing his eye shut and letting out a soft, cackling chitter. Ah, okay, sure. The two moons had made Oz more whole than he ever had been but were messing with Xander’s Hyena a bit. Yeah, yeah. They could handle that.

They’d handled everything else reasonably well so far.

Frankly, she just thought that everyone involved was waiting for a safe moment to break down into hysterics. 

When Xander looked back at her, his grin was just a little sharper than usual, and more feral than he ever really allowed it to be. His eye was a steady green, but not as viciously glowing or as lurid a green as it usually was; it was more like the green had settled. There were faint impressions of spots down the back of his neck too, not much more than brushes of color. But that was okay, because he was still there with them. “Five by five, X?” she repeated, brushing a stray hair out of her face. She’d have to get Xander to braid it for her later; she’d never managed to get the braids to look right or stay tight enough.

“Five by five, lovely,” Xander drawled, a little raspy, and that little cackly giggle at the end was a bit hair-raising, but she could work with that.

“Good.”

Xander straightened and stretched, glancing at the wolf next to him. “Shall we head towards the gunshots?”

“Sounds like a plan, yo.” Faith stretched as well and grabbed up the duffle again. It was her turn to carry it, considering Xander had the guns and Oz had no hands. Fair enough.

Turned out, though, that they weren’t the only ones headed for the noise. Xander clocked the others first, but Oz was very quick on the uptake. Faith had always had a bit more of an issue sensing regular humans, but she too had heard the noise. They stilled and crouched, waiting for the others to show themselves.

There were three of them—the black guy, the mustached one, and the youngest one from the Magnificent 7 team, or whoever. Xander had wondered about that title but had shaken it off. He had plenty of his own titles, and that didn’t even account for the Council as a whole. 

Faith gave a whistle, wiggling her eyebrows as the three men caught sight of them. She grinned, glancing at Xander who gave her an amused look. “Hello there boys,” she rasped, straightening to her full height. She could feel the mustached man’s eyes roving over her, and while he looked appreciative of the sight, the look in his eye told her that he felt her far too young for him. Which, good, honestly. Because Faith may have been 21, but she knew she looked younger at times, and she liked a man with standards.

The black man—what was his name? Agent Jackville? Jacklin? Jackson! Yeah, Jackson. Agent Jackson was staring at Oz and Xander, though, looking a little perturbed. “You kids okay?” he asked, and Faith suddenly remembered how competently he’d been looking after the injured ones on his own team.

“We’re getting by, yo,” she grinned. 

Xander shook himself, straightening from his crouch. “Sorry. The moons have got Oz all wolfy and is messing with my Primal a bit.”

Jackson’s eyes widened, although the other two still looked confused. “Primals? That’s dark mojo, man. You shouldn’t be messing with that.”

Xander shrugged it off, giving a sharp smile. “Wasn’t my decision. Just got caught up in someone else’s mess. Hyena’s been helpful since we were fully merged though.” 

The mustached man…Wilson or something, huffed. “Well, gotta say it’s good to see you kids. Were you responsible for the shots?” he asked, motioning to the guns.

“Nope,” Xander said, popping the ‘p’. “Also, I’m sorry, but I can’t remember any of your names and I’m pretty sure you don’t want me calling you what I have been in my head.”

The youngest gave a huff of a laugh, holding out a hand, which Xander took, a little bemused. “JD Dunne. These are Buck Wilmington and Nathan Jackson.”

“Nice to meetcha,” Xander drawled. “Xander, Oz and Faith,” he said, and the three nodded. They’d remembered, apparently. “Where’s the rest of your men?”

The three exchanged pinched looks and Xander let worry fill him. He’d known that two of theirs were injured, he just hadn’t known how badly. “They’re waiting a ways back. Ezra took a bullet to the thigh before we were…brought here? And has some bad bruising to his ribs. Vin broke some of his own ribs. They couldn’t keep up the pace.”

Xander hummed and Faith gazed at him, one eyebrow raised. Yeah, he knew his back was bad, but he was still capable of walking. Plus, the Primal seemed to be helping with that, at least a little. He had a feeling that the moment the moons were down he was going to crash and crash hard. 

Oz bounded forward, sniffing at the men and then darting into the woods a bit. There was a bark, that Xander answered with a yip of his own. “Well, lets go find get them, then. We can find the other teams after we reconnect with yours.” He reached down, pulling the Beretta from his waistband and handing it to JD. 

JD took the weapon, checked the safety and nodded to Xander. He wasn’t entirely sure why the kid had handed him the gun, and not Buck or Nathan, but he wasn’t going to complain. Besides, Xander hadn’t bothered giving up the assault rifle, and JD wasn’t in much of a mood to ask if he knew how to use it, so they were just going to let it go for now.   
He eyed Faith as she stalked past him with a grace that just wasn’t natural. Especially in skin-tight leather, but again, he wasn’t going to ask. His Mama had been a potential, once upon a time, and he knew what she was. He had never thought he’d see a Slayer, and he hoped that her being here didn’t mean that Earth had been left unprotected. 

But then again…he’d been dead for twenty years, apparently, and these three for ten, so who was he to worry about the state of the Earth?

It took them just over an hour to make it to the cavern of tree roots. They’d had to go in the opposite direction from the gunshots, but Xander had murmured that they’d be able to find the other teams easily. One look at the frankly massive wolf, and everyone was pretty sure that Oz could just sniff them out. Maybe Xander too, for that matter. Who knew what skills that Hyena gave him.

Faith slid right into the cave, her grin large and sultry. “Hello boys,” she drawled, just as she had before. “My own boys are a little on the feral side right now. Didn’t feel much like squeezing in with all of you.” She could hear them pacing just outside. Soon it would probably turn into playful wrestling, if she didn’t quell it. It usually did on full moon nights, but Xander was injured and Faith didn’t much want him rolling around in the dirt, Hyena or no.

She took a good look around, eyeing the two injured ones. Vin, the one with the pretty hair, was looking okay, just breathing carefully. She knew about broken ribs. She’d had plenty of her own in her short life. Ezra, the one with the pretty face, was looking peaked and feverish. There was a gleam to his eye that she didn’t much like, and his slacks were covered in blood and one leg was cut off at just above the knee, the cloth being used as a bandage around that same leg. Also, Armani, so that was a double ouch there.

“Everyone okay?” Chris asked lowly, eyeing the weapons. Xander had handed over the M-16 outside, and she passed it to Chris, eager to get it out of her hands. Guns always made her skin crawl; something to do with the Slayer she guessed. Chris, in turn, handed her a long, serrated hunting knife she was very tempted to cradle. They’d all been relieved of their own weapons upon being kidnapped, even her stakes had been gone. It felt nice to have something sharp and pointy back in her hands.

“Xander’s back needs looking at,” Faith said bluntly, sliding the knife into her boot. “No telling what was on the claws of the demon that sliced him up. He’s been fighting something for a few days anyway so it’s probably not going to be pretty. But you’re not getting anywhere near him until at least morning.” 

Chris frowned, his eyes narrowing but she just held his gaze. She’d seen way scarier than Chris Larabee. “Me and Oz are fine,” she said. She looked around again, raising an eyebrow at the big guy in the back who just nodded at her serenely. Very zen. Nice.

At that moment, Oz started howling, and Xander joined in with his own, slightly creepier howl. Every man in the little cavern jumped a bit and she couldn’t help but laugh. “What? Never heard a wolf and hyena before?”


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of relaxation. Kind of.

They’d cooked up the two small birds over the small fire Teal’c had started near the front of the cave. They hadn’t been large, but there’d been enough to go around, and Jack had managed to get Daniel to eat a fair portion.

Hannibal had coaxed Face awake and gotten him to eat as well, although they were taking it slow. Apparently, the man hadn’t had any food in the past three days due to the sideways mission. They didn’t want to go too fast, not with how bad his fever was raging. 

“Good Faceman,” Murdock cooed, still holding onto his friend, helping him drink some more water from that medicine bottle. Hannibal had dumped the medicine into the bag, figuring that the loose pills would just be recognized as the ones from the bottle. They’d needed the container more than they’d needed Benadryl anyway. 

Face pushed the bottle away after a moment, blinking hazy eyes up at Hannibal. “Where are we?” he asked softly, a question that had been asked plenty of times over the past few hours. At first Jack had worried that the Lieutenant had hit his head and was suffering a concussion, but then it became clear that he was asking because the of the fever messing with his memories. He had needed the continuous confirmation that they weren’t in the camps.

PTSD sucked.

“Cave on a different planet,” Hannibal answered back with a frown. Face gave a nod and buried his face in Murdock’s neck, his hand grasping at his friend’s shirt. Hannibal sighed, running a palm over Face’s hair and straightening. 

B.A. was fiddling with something small, continuously glancing out into the dark of the night. The sun had set not too long ago, and they were all just a little disconcerted that they hadn’t come across the other two teams. Granted, the A-Team hadn’t moved much since they’d found the cave, and neither had Jack’s team, but still, the gunshots from the bird hunting should have at least given them something.

And then they heard the howling. It was distant, but not too far. One was clearly a wolf’s howl, and the other was recognized by Hannibal and his men as a hyena. They listened for a moment, frowning, and then everyone in the cave shuddered as something seemed to join them. Something they couldn’t hear but could definitely feel, that sent shivers down their spines.

“Billy!” Murdock snapped, frowning fiercely. He tightened his hold on Face, who had gone spectacularly pale. “If you’re going to howl, go outside. You’re scaring Facey.” 

The fire flickered and the unsettling feeling faded a bit. It didn’t disappear completely but was muted to some degree. Murdock huffed a sigh, pressing his lips to Face’s hair for a moment. “Sorry,” the pilot said with a sardonic grin. “Billy sometimes forgets that howling can be scary.”

“You okay Face?” Hannibal asked, but the Lieutenant didn’t answer.

Murdock gave a little shrug. “Billy liked to howl in the camps,” he whispered, mostly to his colonel. Hannibal stilled and then nodded, glancing over to where B.A. was watching them with a scowl. The man huffed and then stood, pacing over to them. He dropped down, close enough to be within arms reach.

“Get some sleep lil’ brotha,” he grumbled, patting Face’s uninjured leg. “You too, ya crazy,” he added, frogging Murdock’s leg gently. “I’ll keep watch.” Murdock half-heartedly kicked out at him, but then very gently lowered both him and Face to the ground, cushioning the younger with his own body. Face didn’t seem to mind, even as he shifted to get more comfortable, using Murdock as his pillow.

“I will be keeping watch as well,” Teal’c spoke up, having taken B.A.’s spot at the front of the cave, holding onto the P-90 that Jack had been using earlier. Sam was checking through the medicine again, making sure they had everything they needed. Apparently, Face got violently sick off anything stronger than Tylenol, and Daniel had the tendency to not be affected by anything weaker than amoxicillin. So, between the two they had a strange need for consistency and accuracy. Plus, Jack had a feeling that the other teams would be needing a lot of the medications as well, and there was no telling what specifications they would require. 

Luckily, the anti-bacterial medications that they’d given the two seemed to be working. While weak, Daniel was active and aware enough to keep up and his fever had declined a good amount, although not faded off entirely. And Face was actually conscious, although clearly not in a good way still. Still, they seemed to have gotten the infection under control and his fever was holding steady and no longer climbing. 

They sat in silence for a long moment, before Jack decided he really didn’t like the silence. “We need a vacation,” he said, softly in deference to the two men that weren’t really sleeping but were trying to. “I’m thinking we all need to head out to my cabin when we get back, guys. Do some fishing.”

“There’s no fish in your lake,” Daniel grumbled, shifting until his head was pillowed on Jack’s thigh. The colonel let him rest there, his hand falling to card through Daniel’s hair absently.

“It’s not about how many fish you catch, Danny,” Jack scowled.

“I like fishin’,” Murdock hummed, and B.A. nudged him. “Yeah, yeah, ya big mudsucker. I’m sleepin’. I’m sleepin’.”

“You’re jibber-jabberin’ still, ya mean,” B.A. scowled. Face snorted, shifting a bit from where he was being held flush against Murdock’s side. 

“Boys,” Hannibal warned, giving them a look. All three quieted down, although Face had reached out and grabbed at something no one else could see. Hannibal raised an eyebrow; Billy must be back and Face must not care enough to keep up the pretense that the dog was part of Murdock’s delusions. The howling had ended about ten minutes ago.

“Sir,” Sam said after a short moment, shooting him a grin in the flickering light of the fire. “Daniel’s right. There’s no fish in your lake. And there’s no point in fishing if there’s no fish to catch.”

Jack pouted, eyes narrow and he could swear that Teal’c was laughing at him too. “Why are you all ganging up on me?” he asked.

“You wouldn’t let us reminisce earlier,” Daniel said pointedly, although he too was grinning.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes. Because reminiscing about other times that this one reminded you of is definitely the greatest way to spend the time in the woods.”

“But sir,” Sam said, and he could hear the amusement in her voice. “There’s just so many memories.”

“Get kidnapped by aliens and forced to hunt other people a lot, do you?” Hannibal drawled, chewing on the end of a cigar Jack hadn’t even known the man had had.   
Jack sighed. “Far more often than I’d like to say,” he grumbled. “Although, to be fair, the hunting thing is fairly new.”

“Variety,” Daniel nodded, yawning. “I like it.”

“I do not,” Teal’c grunted. Jack wanted to pat him on the shoulder, but Sam did it for him. Nice. He liked it when his Major read his mind. Usually.

“It’s okay, big guy,” Jack said. “Look on the bright side. If the Game Master were smart he wouldn’t have pitted us against people that we can so easily get along with.”

“No one ever said maniacs were smart,” Sam pointed out.

“No,” Hannibal said. “Because then they would win.” No one said anything about the maniacs that _were_ smart and caused everyone a lot of grief. Granted…they didn’t tend to win, so…

Jack shook his head. “Still. Open invitation. All of us. My cabin. Fishing in a fish-less lake.”

Sam smiled. “Might be a little crowded,” she replied. “That’s eighteen in total.”

Jack settled back against the rock, Daniel having finally stilled completely, breathing soft and deep and even. “Aww, Carter, don’t tell me you don’t want to stay with all us men? Maybe you and Faith can head to a spa instead.”

She rolled her eyes, tossing a pebble in his direction. He liked when she let loose a little, giving up the formalities of the army and relaxing despite him being her commanding officer. “Faith doesn’t seem much like a spa girl. Hell, Colonel, _I’m_ not much of a spa girl.”

“The gym, then,” Jack snarked. She flashed another grin, almost animalistic in the flickering light. Man, this was all just so messed up.

“So, Colonel,” Hannibal drawled, hunkering down nearby. Murdock was humming softly, one hand smoothing over the tiger on the back of the jacket Face was still wearing. B.A. was just watching the two, silent and still. Teal’c remained at the entrance, and Sam was settling down to catch a quick nap before she would inevitably take a turn at watch. “What can you tell me about the future?”

Jack frowned a little, glancing at the man. But Hannibal wasn’t looking at him, instead watching his own men with an unreadable look in his eye. Jack shrugged and started to talk.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then they were all together, telling stories by the campfire.

They had decided not to wait until morning. Xander and Oz were twitchy with the moons, and the other men weren’t sleeping anyway. Especially when Xander said that he’d caught the scent of Peck’s blood and could follow that to where they needed to be.

So, Chris had gathered his men together and nodded to Faith as she joined her boys and they all traipsed out into the dark. He didn’t like it much, but there wasn’t anything to do about it. He agreed that he didn’t believe the Game Master wouldn’t throw something new at them soon. He had to be watching them, after all, this being his entertainment. He’d had to have seen them all teaming up.

They weren’t exactly quiet as they stalked through the woods, although they maybe should have been. Chris ended up rolling his eyes and aiming a glare at his two injured agents, from where they were snickering to each other in the middle of the pack. He was thankful that Vin was trying to take Ezra’s mind off the painful walk, but honestly, hearing the two of them whisper together and then laugh? It made him very nervous.

Those two…he caught Josiah’s eye and nodded towards them. The large man rolled his blue eyes, looked to the sky in a silent prayer, and then fell back to keep a stricter eye on his two troublemakers. Thankfully, Buck was keeping JD occupied on this walk, because adding the youngest to the mix generally meant things going haywire much faster than usual. Those three…Chris shook his head.

“Ms. Faith,” Buck called softly, and Chris watched as Faith turned, looking a little startled. It was probably the ‘Ms.’. She didn’t look like someone who got called “Ms.” very often. “Colonel O’Neill said something about the New Council? When did the Council become New?”

Good, the others were quieting a little in the back. Thank you, Buck, for catching their attention with something that they wanted to know. Chris chanced a glance back, just to make sure everything was still going fine. Josiah gave him a nod, carefully watching Ezra limp along with a frown. The last thing they needed was for his leg to start bleeding again. They’d been lucky that the shot had been a through-and-though, if only because that meant that the bullet wasn’t still in. Made for a heck of an injury to heal on its own, though.

Faith fell back to Buck’s side, keeping an eye on her boys, who were darting through the woods playing a convoluted game of tag while still leading them all to where the other teams were located. “You’re from when? ’95, right? That’s a little before my slaying time.” She tilted her head to one side, smiling as a cackle broke through the trees in front of them. Her eyes remained sharp, though, peering through the darkness. “The Old Council bit the farm back in, what? 2002?”

“No. ’03,” Xander corrected from directly next to them. Nathan jumped and JD gave a startled yelp. Xander grinned a feral grin and darted off again. 

Faith nodded, not looking perturbed in the least. “Sure. 2003, the old Council was exploded by the First Evil. And then the Scoobies defeated the First Evil, closed the Hellmouth and sank Sunnydale into the ground. And then we rebuilt and made it better. There’s hundreds of slayers now. But Buffy and I are the original called. Buffy was the first; Xander split the line, meaning a second slayer was called, and when she was killed, I was called. And now, due to desperate times, there’s hundreds.” She shrugged.

“And now you’ve got Primals and werewolves working with you,” Josiah hummed, catching Ezra’s elbow as the man’s leg buckled under him. Faith nodded, stepping back and flinging Ezra’s arm over her shoulder to support his weight. He gave her a startled look, but she just grinned at him, physically moving his arm so that it was wrapped around her waist. 

“And two vampires, some witches, a few demons as well. That’s the Scoobies for ya, man,” she said, shaking her head fondly. “They changed the way we fought the dark. And, to be honest, a lot of it was Xander’s doing.”

“Not true,” Xander whispered. He’d stopped, Oz at his side, peering a bit through the trees. Rubbing at his cheek under his eyepatch and grimacing a little at the flakes of demon blood that fell from his skin, he glanced back at them. “It was a joint effort. We were tired of losing people, so we fought back.”

Oz pranced in place, giving small barks, and Xander dropped a hand to his head, scratching behind his ears with nails that may have been a bit sharper than usual. 

“What are we waiting for?” Chris asked, glowering into the dark. 

“Billy,” Xander replied. 

“The invisible dog,” JD said, sighing softly. He was tired. No one had really slept well the night before, and they’d spent all day in the woods today. 

Xander nodded. “Yup…the invisible dog.”

Faith sidled closer, bringing Ezra with her. Vin trailed a little bit behind, one arm wrapped around his middle and his face in a grimace. “It’s not really a dog, is it?” she asked, because she’d gotten the ‘wiggens’ as Xander called them at times from the A-Team and had a feeling it wasn’t because of the men.

Xander shrugged. “Close enough,” he replied. He gave her a once over, grimacing again. “Geez we need showers.” He glanced at Ezra, who seemed to just be taking a moment to breathe, and smiled in sympathy. “Sorry you’re getting a personal demonstration of eu-de-demon-guts, dude.”

Ezra rolled his eyes and Faith lightly smacked Xander with her free hand. Vin snorted behind them. “We’se been through worse,” the sniper said softly, grin flashing in the dark of the night. “Ez, ‘specially. He once went undercover with a group what liked to meet in the sewers.” 

Ezra, Faith and Xander all grimaced at the same time. “I hate the sewers,” Faith said. “Can never get those smells out, yo. Not even from leather.”

Xander’s eye flicked to Faith’s pants and he frowned lightly before looking up. “Ah, yes. Here’s Billy,” he said, as Oz pranced forward to engage in doggy-play with something that very few others could see. Faith shivered a little, frowning. The ‘wiggens’ she was feeling was familiar, but she couldn’t quite remember what it was reminding her of. 

Meanwhile, back in the cave, everyone was startled with Face and Murdock jumped awake, staring out the cave. “Boys?” Hannibal asked. They’d only been asleep for about two hours.

“Billy gone up and run out,” Murdock murmured, allowing himself to fall back with a thump. He raised a hand up towards the roof of the cave and started muttering to himself, tracing pictures in the air. Face turned his attention to his friend, still leaning against him, and frowned, listening. Hannibal shook his head and looked towards the others. 

B.A. was still seated next to his teammates, scowling down at them. Daniel was still asleep, using the Colonel’s lap as his pillow. Sam had woken from where she’d been napping by the fire, and at the statement that Billy had left, had started shuffling through the medicine bag again. Apparently, she’d taken that to mean that the others were on their way in.

The big guy with the weird tattoo was standing at the entrance to the cave, staring out into the darkness. Hannibal was pretty sure he hadn’t seen the man move at all since they’d settled down into quiet for those that were sleeping. Jack had gone quiet as well, breaking his monologue about things called dvds and mp3s and smartphones and something called the internet that sounded absolutely amazing. He was watching the entrance of the cave as well.

There was whistling coming from outside of the cave, suddenly, and Jack moved to get up, only to have Hannibal pat him on the shoulder. His own boys might be awake when they should be sleeping, but there was no reason to have to wake Daniel yet. Hannibal got to his feet, paced past the small fire to the front of the cave, and started whistling back. 

From the dark shadows of the trees, a large group came forward. Faith, the girl, was supporting the man with the injured leg and frankly looked like she was having no trouble doing so. That just confirmed his theory that she was the Slayer—his team had come across a Slayer and her watcher in the jungles of ‘Nam, not long before they’d been caught by General Chao. A quick indoctrination of the things that go bump in the night and all four of them had helped fight off the swarm of Vietcong vampires. That Slayer had disappeared shortly after, and they’d ended up in the camps and…well.

There was a really large wolf pacing the outer edges of the group, and the one-eyed kid was slinking along with him, cackling softly to himself every once and a while. By the way his eye was now green instead of brown, Hannibal was going to let it slide into the mystical side of things. The agents were all moving carefully, two holding weapons, although Hannibal was pretty sure that Jackson and Faith both had knives on them as well. And they had a duffel bag on them that looked like it had some items in it as well.

“Come on in, the fire’s great,” Hannibal grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets. He got nods from everyone and they all filed into the cave, which was easily large enough for the entire group, eighteen of them or not. Granted, it meant stepping over those that were lying down, but no one seemed to mind cuddling up to each other.

Sam had immediately stood to help with the wounded, passing out medications and checking on injuries. She’d tried to get Xander to let him look at his back, but the boy had turned and snapped and snarled in a completely animalistic way that had her backing off immediately. Faith had quietly commented that they’d take care of it in the morning, once the moons had passed. 

“If you want to go a little downstream, you can wash off a bit,” Hannibal mentioned, shooting a glance back to where Face was furiously whispering to Murdock, who was still muttering. B.A. caught his gaze and just shook his head, rolling his eyes. Murdock’s hand had fallen to pet the empty air. 

Faith gave him a flirty look, spun on her heel and walked right back out of the cave, Xander following behind her. Hannibal was kind of glad, to be honest, because the two of them had looked like nightmares, covered in the gore that they had been. Their wolf, who he figured was the missing Oz, just curled up against the wall, not far from Hannibal’s men, and settled down to sleep with a large, toothy yawn.

Hannibal watched, silently, as Agent Larabee got his two injured men settled, looking relieved to have actual medical supplies. The well-dressed one that reminded him so much of Face almost instantly fell asleep, but not before grumbling a bit. Jackson had hovered over the two for a few minutes, making sure they took some pills—watching with narrowed eyes that let Hannibal know that those two men were likely to be trouble when injured—before eyeing the others.

Jackson then walked over to where Face and Murdock were, glancing back at Hannibal. “Do you mind if I take a look? I’m a trained paramedic.” Hannibal gave a nod, raising an eyebrow. Since when did government task force teams have paramedics on board? 

“Medics, medics,” Murdock sang. “I flew with medics in the war. Flying, flying, flying. And then we weren’t flying anymore, but falling and crashing and burning. Everyone was burning. Everyone’s burning.” His eyes darted a bit, looking at things that weren’t really there.

“Murdock,” Face muttered with nothing more than a glace to Nathan, who was crouching next to them and examining the bandages on Face’s leg. “Murdock. H.M. Come on buddy,” he said, tapping Murdock’s chest. “No one’s burning here.”

“You’re burning, Tempy,” Murdock frowned, turning his head to look at the feverish man. Murdock’s arm tightened around Face’s waist, pulling him just a little tighter to his side. But his eyes were clearing a bit and Face would take it for a win.

“Just a little, bud,” Face consented. “You were telling me about the book you read. I want to know the ending.”

“You don’t want to read it yourself?” Murdock asked, and when Face shook his head, he started off on a soliloquy about the novel that he’d been reading during their mission. Nathan, for his part, had ignored all this conversation with little more than a frown. He was much more focused on checking Face’s temperature and injury site and running his hands down the bruised chest, double checking for broken ribs.

To be fair, Nathan didn’t think that Hannibal or his men had missed anything; they were war vets with more action behind them than most would ever see in their lifetimes. He knew that they had at least basic field training, but he felt better knowing exactly what injuries were present in any group he worked with.

Nathan moved on to check on Daniel next, frowning in consternation. How on Earth—or not Earth, and man part of him wanted to scream about that one—did they end up with three thigh injuries out of four teams? The Colonel was watching silently, until Nathan sat back, satisfied that no one was going to die tonight. It would be better if they could get all four injured men to the hospital—five, actually if you included Xander—but that would have to wait.

It wasn’t too long until Xander and Faith returned, sopping wet and shirtless, the both of them. Faith was even wearing Xander’s torn shirt wrapped around her waist in a makeshift mini-skirt. Apparently, she was perfectly willing to walk in wearing just a sport’s-bra, but didn’t want to send the men into conniptions by being just in her panties. She probably would have found it funny, though. 

Faith grumbled as she dropped to the ground, leaning up against Oz, and started slicing through her leather pants with the knife Chris had given her. They were just too constricting for what they had planned. She’d had no problem fighting off the Demon Lord while wearing them, but that had been one fight that hadn’t lasted more than three quarters of an hour, at most. Wandering through woods and potentially fighting off many more beings? Yeah, she needed something a little less for that.

“We’re all going to be sporting the cutoff look here, soon,” she grinned to herself, although her grin was more angry than gleeful. At least she’d fit in with three of the others. It didn’t take long for her to slice the legs off her pants and make them into some short shorts, which she shimmied on under Xander’s shirt. 

Xander, for his part, had curled up with Oz with a large yawn. The both of them were much cleaner now, the demon blood and gore removed from their skin. His back had opened up again at the scrubbing, and was bleeding lightly, but no one bothered trying to get close. He was still far too awake for that. Everyone, aside from Daniel and Ezra, were awake for that matter, despite being completely exhausted. Face seemed to be slipping off to sleep, though, listening to Murdock ramble.

Jack let his gaze roam over the group, from B.A. sitting stoically next to his teammates, to Vin curled around Ezra, to JD and Buck leaning against each other against the wall. Teal’c and Sam seated near the entrance of the cave. Hannibal and Chris watching everyone, standing near the center of the cave. Nathan and Josiah sitting close, silent and observant. 

“The Game Master is going to know that we’re working together by now,” Jack spoke up. “Though I really don’t know how he’s monitoring us.”

“Magic, magic, everywhere,” Xander murmured, rolling his eye. “Can you feel it?” He aimed the question to Faith, who frowned.

“Is that what I’m feeling?” she asked, brow furrowing. “I thought it was just Billy.”

Xander shrugged, stretching a little and giving a wince. “A bit of it’s Billy,” he relented. “But really, you’re feeling the spying spells. They just feel a little off cause the Game Master is using Earth magic and this isn’t Earth.”

Faith huffed. “So I was right? This is a hell-dimension and not another planet?”

“Nope,” Xander said, looking around at everyone, who were watching him intensely. “It’s a different planet. Pretty sure our Game Master is a demon from Earth though. Pretty sure all the ‘aliens’ he’s kidnapped are from Earth as well. I’m thinking he’s got a one-way teleportation system of some sort set up, not like your ‘Gate.” He nodded to the SG1 team. “Probably he and his demon friends killed off the local population and took over when they found themselves here. Won’t know for certain though until we meet up with him.”

JD scowled, flicking a small twig into the fire. “How are we supposed to plan anything if the guy is using magic to know what we’re doing?”

At that, Faith gave a big grin. “Magic goes screwy around the X-man, yo,” she said, nudging Xander a bit. “Chances are, Mr. Game Master is only getting a few disjointed pieces now.”

Jack nodded, looking around at the odd group. Sixteen men of various builds, two women who were slight but well trained. “I think,” Jack said, “that we need to know each other’s abilities a bit more. Who here has military training?” All the A-Team raised their hands, obviously, although Murdock was raising Face’s for him. Chris, Buck, Vin and Ezra, although Vin had pointed to Ezra to let them know about the sleeping man. And Xander made a waffling wave with his hand. Jack frowned; he didn’t know what that meant.

“Colonel Smith,” Xander said, having seen the frown. “Do you remember a Major Alexander Lavelle? Green Beret, second string?” Hannibal nodded, frowning. Xander smiled a bit, although it was strained. “Well, my full name is Alexander Lavelle Harris and I have all of Grandpa’s war-time memories shoved in my head. For the record, ‘Nam sucked. Also, Grandpa never believed ya’ll were criminals and I’m happy to actually have met you for real.”

Hannibal blinked. “Okay. Sure,” he said, giving a bit of a grin back. “You’re right. ‘Nam sucked.” And Major Lavelle had never been captured, as far as he knew, but that didn’t mean that Xander needed the man’s nightmares of what he had encountered. “Green Beret,” he said instead, pointing at Xander. He turned that finger on himself. “Green Beret, Colonel.” On B.A. “Green Beret Sergeant, Machinist and Mechanic.” On Face. “Green Beret Lieutenant, Supplies Officer and Sniper.” He shrugged a little. “He’s our conman.” And then pointed at Murdock. “Air Force. Captain. Can pilot anything that’s meant to fly and a few fair bits that aren’t.”

Jack nodded. “Major Carter and I are Air Force, she’s a physicist but can hold her own in a fight. Danny’s an archaeologist but he’s good with a gun when needed. Teal’c’s an alien who is trained in combat as well. I was Special Forces.”

Chris grunted, finally letting himself sit with a sigh. “Captain in the Marines. Buck was a Sergeant. Tanner’s a Ranger and our sniper. Ez was an Air Force Captain and is our undercover agent and pilot.” He shrugged. “That’s it for military training for us, although we’re all combat trained in some way.”

“I ran a Vatican team in my twenties,” Josiah spoke up and Faith’s eyes widened.

“That’s why you look so familiar!” she cried, suddenly looking excited. “You’re that guy! The Sanchez guy!” She prodded Xander. “Xan, it’s the Sanchez. The one the Pope was telling us about!”

Xander rolled his eye, giving Josiah an apologetic look. “Sorry. You’re well known among certain factions of the Council,” he said with a light shrug. There hadn’t been many photos, but the girls had all poured over the ones that the Pope had provided them with.

Chris raised an eyebrow, but let it go. “JD is good with a firearm although he’s mostly our tech guy, and Nathan’s got a lot of skill with both guns and throwing knives. He’s also our medic.”

“And we’ve been fighting for the better part of ten years,” Faith said with a sharp grin. “The boys longer than me, but we’re all good to go.”

Jack gave another nod, settling back a bit. “I think we’re set. We’re a skilled bunch, all of us, and we should be able to come up with a decent plan.” He sighed. “But for now, I think we should all get some rest. This can wait until morning.”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the lair of an evil being.

While the teams were settling down for the night, the Game Master was raging. He stalked through the halls of his compound, heading for the room of his second, eyes narrowed and fangs bared. “LaToy!” he yelled, his voice echoing.

“Yes sir?” A simpering voice replied, and a smaller, green demon with bright red horns peeked out from a doorway. 

“What are these teams you’ve brought me!?” Game Master yelled, baring down on him. 

LaToy fell back a bit, eyes wide as he tried to stay clear of the furious demon. “They are the best humans I could find, sir. I made sure of it. Searched through the nearest decades and pulled the best of the best.”

Game Master snarled. “You brought me a Slayer! Slayers can’t kill humans!”

“This one can!” LaToy snapped back. “She’s done so before. And besides, she’s tried to kill her human companion before, and the other is a werewolf and she’s a slayer! And she can be bought! The mayor of Sunnydale bought her service, and he was as evil as you are, sir!”

Game Master faltered a little at that one. Ever since the other teams had been brought in to face off with SG1, his surveillance spells had been suffering. He didn’t know what was causing it, but it was frustrating, and he was losing more and more viewers by the hour because of it. He thought that maybe when the teams were split up it would make things better, but he’d had to take the time to relay the spells, and by that time an entire day had been lost. 

And they were still messing up! To say that Game Master was a little frustrated was a bit of an understatement. 

He hadn’t been so frustrated since he’d been forced through that infernal ‘Gate a few hundred years ago with just LaToy at his side. They’d, of course, made quick work of decimating the nearby villages of this planet, but that had grown boring. And then LaToy was finally able to make contact with Earth again and the games had begun. 

With LaToy’s ability to pull things from Earth, despite the distance of the planets, Game Master was able to set up his empire. Entertainment for all demons and a few aliens. They couldn’t travel through LaToy’s portals, but they could bring whatever they wanted through to them. It was splendid that they were still able to reach a few Hell dimensions from here as well, despite being stuck on this awful two-mooned place.

LaToy had started by pulling just demons from Earth to fight in gladiator style combat. That had been fun and fruitful. But then, Game Master had gotten the idea for human trials. And the human hunting games had begun. He’d been pitting humans against demons for decades, usually one on one. Sometimes two on one or sending entire groups of demons out after a human.

But when SG1 had come through the ‘Gate? Well…that had opened up possibilities. Teams against teams. And entirely human ones, too. Game Master knew humans were just as cruel as demons could be, and many would revel in the chance to hunt down their own kind. So he’d had LaToy search for teams to pit SG1 against and bring them here, to this time on this planet. Research and dedication, to make just the perfect season for his show.

Only it wasn’t working the way he thought.

“So the Slayer may be able to be bought, but what of the others?” Game Master snarled.

LaToy shifted on his feet. “The military criminals are mercenaries for hire, sir,” he said, flashing a bit of a grin. “Offer them enough money and they’d happily play the game. And the other team, the lawmen. They have internal difficulties. Their conman, the undercover one, he’d be willing to turn on them for some treasure, I’m sure.” 

Game Master’s eyes narrowed as he watched LaToy closely. “Fine,” he finally said, waving a hand. “You’d better be correct.” He huffed. “As it is, we need to send out some of our teams.” The winning teams from the past, the ones that had loved playing the game so much that they’d sided themselves with the Game Master and become famous throughout the realms. “I have a feeling some of these humans are working together. Best to nip that in the bud.”


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Psychics always made things just a bit easier when it came to planning, you know?

Morning came with the aches and pains of having slept on the stone floor. Xander had crashed hard the moment the moons had started to set. Oz had whimpered and whined and slowly shifted back to the green-haired boy that desperately needed a bath. He gave both Faith and Xander a quick kiss and then wandered off to wash up in the stream. It was considered a miracle that he still had clothes on, and everyone was glad for it since they had a serious lack of other clothing options.

Nathan had immediately got to work on cleaning and bandaging Xander’s back, the moment the boy settled. He’d been up most of the night, when Face’s and Ezra’s fevers suddenly spiked. Thankfully, Daniel seemed to be over the worst of the infection, his injury—while bad—nowhere near as bad as a through-and-though or a three-day old stabbing mixed with starvation. 

Luckily, Face’s fever had broken in the early hours of the morning, and Ezra’s was well on the way of being under control. Nathan had stitched the injuries when it was obvious that the infections had been completely cleared and they were no longer draining. 

They’d been keeping watch through the night, taking shifts, and Nathan finally allowed himself to rest when Sam came in from her watch. So he, Xander and Sam drifted off to sleep, listening to Chris and Jack mother-hen everyone else that was up into eating some of their dried fruit as a meager breakfast. 

Faith had wandered over to the Magnificent Seven team and started up a ridiculous pick-up-line/flirting battle with Buck. Face had blinked awake and was sleepily watching them with a slight grin on his face. He liked a feisty, flirty woman. And it was clear that Buck was a good man, if a bit of a womanizer, in that Faith felt completely comfortable lounging with him in just her short shorts and sports bra. 

“You good, muchacho?” Murdock whispered, and Face turned to look up at him. 

“Yeah. Better than I was, at least,” he replied.

“Good.” And with that, Murdock sat up, pulling Face with him and catching the attention of Hannibal, who more or less demanded that they eat. Soon after that, B.A. was helping Face to his feet to let the man relieve himself outside the cave. There was very little embarrassment at the needed help; Face just didn’t have the time or energy to exert.

Once everyone had eaten and taken care of their business, they settled down again and started taking stock of all the supplies they’d found so far.

Face managed to claim a black tank top, Faith grabbing the other tank for herself and the black t-shirt for Xander. Face also claimed a pair of boots, while Ezra decided to switch out his loafers with the remaining pair. They’d both cut off the remaining leg of their pants, the cloth going to supplement their bandage supply, and leaving them not feeling so mismatched. Fashion mattered, people, even when stuck in the woods on an alien planet, and a one-legged pant was never a good look. (Daniel, too, had cut off his remaining pant leg, but he didn’t care so much about fashion as he did about not having anything affecting his balance.)

Face had settled down next to Ezra, who had pulled a deck of cards from his blazer pocket and was carefully laying them out. Vin was watching, eyes narrowed. “Whatcha seein’, Ez?” the Texan said softly, but he still managed to get the attention of nearly everyone.

Faith got to her feet, slinking forward to glance at the cards over Ezra’s shoulder. “You got some Sight, Mr. Agent?” she asked, smiling.

“Wait, hold up,” Buck called, frowning fiercely. “You sayin’ Ez is psychic?” He shook his head. “I can handle demons and monsters and aliens. But psychics?”

Faith shot him an arched look. “What did you think I meant when I called Xan The One Who Sees, yo?” she asked.

JD smacked Buck’s chest with the back of his hand. “Knock it off, Buck,” he said. “Psychics are a known phenomenon in our world. And honestly, didn’t you ever wonder why Ezra seems to know things before they happen? He just usually uses his cards.”

Ezra said nothing, pressing his thumb to his lip. He glanced up, green eyes traveling over everyone in the large group. Chris was watching him with a frown; Ezra had never said anything about a precognitive ability before, but he knew that his boss wouldn’t be surprised by it. JD certainly wasn’t; the boy was far more perceptive than he generally seemed. And Vin had known from the first time he’d ever pulled out his cards at his desk. Looking back to his cards, Ezra laid out the last of the set, the Ace of Spades, the Ace of Hearts and the Queen of Hearts. Interesting.

“Standish?” Chris asked, eyebrow raised. “What do you see?”

“The Game Master is unable to discern what we’re up to, but he suspects that at least a few of us are working together. He’s sending out other teams to track us down.” He tilted his head a little, fingering his Ace of Spades. “Game Master also believes that some of us can be bought out to play the game. And perhaps we can play on that. I, Mr. Peck and Ms. Lehane seem to be the ones that could convince him to dance, so to speak.”

Jack shot him a bit of a grin. “Well, there’s an idea in the works there,” he said, pulling guns from the bag that they had brought.

“Oh, pretty,” Vin drawled, eyeing the sniper rifles. Face hummed next to him and he glanced his way. “You good with a rifle?”

Face nodded. “I’d be better off with the Mauser,” he commented, looking over the weapon. “But I never miss what I aim at.” He just rarely aimed at humans these days. He mostly just shot to scare. And, to be honest, being a crack-shot sniper is what had gotten him singled out in Chao’s camp; the General had known that the young Lieutenant Peck had been the one to assassinate many prominent targets—including Chao’s brother—and therefore had taken out plenty of his rage on the man. Face didn’t have much need for a sniper rifle anymore, but he could still use one.

Faith commandeered a few knives and the ax, stating that Xander much preferred an ax to any other weapon. Although Jack was pretty sure the kid was going to get a gun as well. By the time the weapons were divvied up, everyone had something, most handguns or automatics. 

They were lucky there were some holsters in the bag as well; a few shoulder holsters and more waist ones. It was beginning to feel like either an old west film in the making or a federal bust in the works, what with all the gearing up and the weapons and all. 

Oz wandered back in, much cleaner, and holding two dead rabbits of good size. Or, well, they’d be rabbits if rabbits had fangs and long tails, but in any case, they were edible.   
So while a few people prepared a more filling meal, Face met the eyes of Hannibal, a grin stealing over his face. He nudged Ezra, pointed to the cards, and then turned to Jack. They could plan for this; it would be an easy thing to come up with something that would work.

Jack caught the look and arched an eyebrow. Ezra was already shuffling his deck of cards, preparing to lay them out again. And Hannibal and Chris had started talking lowly to each other. Yeah. Yeah, they got this.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violence and bloodshed were easy. Staying alive long enough to get home...that was the hard part.

_”The minute we split up, they’re going to be able to see whatever teams Xander isn’t part of.”_

Finding the compound was the easy part. The Game Master hadn’t really been subtle about it, putting the compound right in the middle of the only clearing around. Granted, the ‘Gate was right in the middle of the compound, which made things just a bit more interesting. 

Xander exchanged looks with his companions, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head towards the front door. Three of his team nodded, took deep breaths, and started walking towards the door, hands on their weapons. Xander and Oz slipped silently back into the trees, keeping careful watch.

_”Once we’re in, we’re going to need to be able to have a way to get in touch.”_

The Game Master hadn’t thought to take the comm units from those that had had them. The transportation had shorted them out, but between B.A., Sam, Oz and JD, they were able to get six of them working again. 

They made them smaller, just barely visible in the ears of those wearing them, if you looked hard enough. But the reception on them was good enough to pick up the voices of those speaking. 

Face exchanged a look with Ezra, frowning a little. Faith shrugged, licking her lips. This had been almost too easy. 

“Well, come on boys,” Faith said, sauntering forward with bravado that she wasn’t completely sure she felt. “Let’s go see this Game Master about our prizes.” 

They made an odd bunch, walking through the hall of the compound, the three of them dressed in cut-off shorts, Faith and Face in tank-tops and Ezra still in his dress shirt and blazer. Two of the three had thick bandages wrapped around their right legs. Face had his shoulder holster, heavy with weaponry, Ezra a gun at his waist, and Faith a duffel bag slung across her back. 

“We’re in,” Face whispered, hoping the others could hear. They hadn’t had the chance to check the range on the comms.

 _”Distract the Game Master. Create a diversion. And divide his other teams among us.”_  
Gunfire erupted throughout the trees, yelling accompanying it. The Magnificent Seven bounded through the forest, chasing SG1, firing rounds. 

No one was hurt; no one was aiming anywhere close to another human. They were, as far the Game Master was concerned, playing the game, hunting each other, and with great enthusiasm. The fact that Hannibal’s team—minus Face—had joined in with SG1 just made it more ‘fun’. 

So when the demon teams that had been sent after them rounded on them, trying to get SG1 and the A-Team to fall, they were easy pickings. Because they hadn’t been expecting for Mag 7 to gun them down instead.

And while the Game Master’s eyes were on the team in the inside, the others worked on diverting the attention of the combat teams. Xander and Oz were quick to tell them how many demons were leaving the compound, and managed to take down a good many of those as well.

_”If he thinks we can be bought, then he may think we’d be willing to work for him. Use it.”_

“Game Master, I presume?” Face said with a winning smile. The man in front of him had narrowed eyes, but was also smiling with a grin that was far too sharp to be human. “We have a proposition for you.”

“Indeed my good sir,” Ezra said, his accent thick and smooth as honey. “You want us to play your game. But a game implies a reward, yes?”

Faith grinned, dark and feral. “It’s about time we talk about what we can do for each other, don’t you agree?”

The Game Master watched them for a long moment, wondering for a bit how these three humans had managed to even make their way into the compound. But then he relaxed and ushered them inside.

_”There are a lot of demons that guns don’t affect much. But hardly anything can handle having their kneecaps blown out. And if you can, go for the head.”_

They were keeping the Game Master busy, trying to give the others enough time to take out the majority of the demons. Most had wanted to keep Face and Ezra (and Daniel but they couldn’t get him to work into the part of the plan) out of harm’s way; their injuries were pretty bad and too much could bring the fevers back. But they’d all agreed that it would take the two conmen to get what they wanted out of the demon lord, and Faith was being sent in as protection.

The Game Master was eating up the words of the two men, seeming pleased that these two at least were willing to play his games. That they were willing to help with his schemes, even, if he got them enough money. He’d already sent LaToy out to gather the needed funds.

No cash, Face had said, because cash could be traced once they made it back to Earth. And if they wanted the games to continue, then Game Master had to trust them and let them get back to Earth. They could search out more teams for him.

Besides, Faith had popped up, having someone on Earth would let Game Master grab whoever he wanted and they could make it not-so-obvious. Because the SGC was going to know that something was happening on this planet. Better to make it so the SGC didn’t find out what.

The Game Master hadn’t noticed her getting behind him, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t paying him any attention. The Dark Slayer was just as dark as LaToy had said.

Speaking of LaToy, he arrived with a large bag filled to the brim with precious stones. No one asked where he’d gotten them, although eyebrows rose among all of them. With a grin, the Game Master allowed Ezra to take the bag, and led them to what Daniel had called the DDH, in a room just outside the ‘Gate room.

And that’s when Faith struck, her knife digging into the spine of LaToy. At the same moment, Face spun, drawing his gun and shooting Game Master right in the face. It didn’t kill him, Face hadn’t expected it to, but it did put him down long enough for the three to make a running start for the doors.

Unfortunately, there were plenty of demons in the place that weren’t so happy about their boss getting shot.

_”The snipers go high. The rest of us go in low. Storm the place if we have to.”_

The moment the gunshot had echoed over the comm, the one that was coming from the inside, the teams were moving.They’d surrounded the place, waiting for a chance to break in, to get to their teammates on the inside. But demons were rioting, pouring out of the building and screaming from the inside let them know it was just as bad there. 

They continued fighting, until there were no bullets left. Until they were stuck fighting with fists and blades. And then the demons fell to the sound of gun shots, leaving nothing but blood splatter and brain matter where their heads had once been. Coming from two high directions.

A look to the wall, revealed a grinning Face, covered nearly head to toe in blood, but right in position behind his sniper rifle. “You guys going to move or do I need to pull out the flame thrower?” he asked, looking away long enough to shoot down a few more demons.

“Do you really have a flame thrower?” JD asked. Vin dropped down from the tree, M8 in hand. He immediately handed the weapon to Teal’c who would better be able to handle its weight while on the run. Face continued shooting at the demons, a few taking more than one shot to the head to put down, while the remaining teams ran for the doors. 

“Faith and Ezra are holding the ‘Gate room!” he said, grabbing his gun and jumping to the ground. B.A. caught him as his leg crumbled out from under him, but then they were moving too, running through the compound. Adrenaline could be a heck of a pain relief drug.

_”And in all the chaos, we should be able to get through the ‘Gate and get home.”_

Xander had found the weapon’s cache, and had grinned at the explosives he’d found there. Setting them was easy enough. And with Game Master and LaToy both dead, they wouldn’t have to worry about others from Earth being kidnapped for their games. Game Master had been only too pleased to share his secrets with Face and Ezra and Faith, after all.

However, with the explosives set to go off in just under five minutes, the entire group was quick about going through the ‘Gate. There wasn’t even any time for those unfamiliar with the device to revel in its beauty.

Sam and Daniel made it down the ramp first, covered in so much blood and gore that General Hammond immediately called for medics. Guns went up from the guards in the Gate Room though, when more and more people started filing through the ‘Gate. Jack and Teal’c were last to come down, Jack yelling something about a Billy? And then he made the motion to shut down the ‘Gate.

Everyone was covered in filth, as though they’d gone to battle up-close-and-personal. Not all of the blood was red but most of it was, so it was hard to tell who was injured and who wasn’t. Daniel and two others had stained bandages around their legs, and one was standing rather carefully. 

And they were all heavily armed, from simple knives to handguns to automatic weapons and even some sniper rifles.

“Colonel? Who are these people?” Hammond demanded, because a few of them looked familiar. In that way that meant that he’d seen reports on them or something. 

Jack heaved a sigh, eyes roving over all the people that had come through the ‘Gate with him. They were standing uneasily, some of them having already dropped to the metal ground in exhaustion and pain. “Well, sir,” Jack drawled, watching as Murdock started petting the empty air. “That’s a story alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was difficult to write. I wanted it to come across like those scenes in movies where they're discussing the plan as a voice-over while the plan is happening. You know what I'm talking about? I don't think I conveyed it right, but I got there in the end, I suppose.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And one by one the pieces fall into place.

General Hammond was a little at a loss. He had fourteen people (and an invisible dog) who had been declared dead years ago, all of which were getting showers and medical checks in the infirmary. Janet had her hands full with this group, that was for sure.

He sighed, rubbing at his eyes. The Council had already been contact. Apparently, the moment Harris had stepped through the ‘Gate and back onto Earth, every Slayer in the world had felt his return. Something about being the ‘Heart’. He wasn’t going to ask.

And Hammond had taken the time to look into what had happened to the personal effects of the A-Team and the Magnificent Seven. In both cases, women close to the men had inherited everything. What had happened to their stuff since then, he hadn’t a clue. 

How on Earth were they going to reintroduce fourteen people back into society? Some of them had been gone for thirty years, others twenty and still others ten. So much had changed in that time!

Plus there was setting up the paperwork to prove that they weren’t dead…or just setting them up with new identities. There was the hassle of creating bank accounts and actually filling them with some amount, as no one could be expected to live off of nothing. Granted, that giant bag of gems that they’d brought back could probably help with that. (They’d searched for any sign of bank and/or jewelry thefts in the last fifty years, but nothing had come up. The gems had either come from an earlier date, or sometime in the future, in which case, they were just going to let it go.)

SG1 couldn’t ever just have an easy mission, could they? Of course not. That would get boring. Granted, it would probably be better for his ulcer. Hammond sighed.  
Well. If they could get an alien to live comfortably on Earth than they could get these men and the single lady situated. They’d been talking about creating some specialist teams for a while, after all.

_A-Team_

Hannibal stared at the general, not entirely sure what to say. They’d just, all four of them, been offered a job at the SGC. And not necessarily one as an off-world team. They wanted them to stay mostly Earth-side.

“I’m not sure I understand, General,” Hannibal commented, wishing he had a cigar. It had taken the better part of a week for Janet—the lead doctor here—to release Face from the infirmary and get Murdock’s medications all sorted out. The fact that Murdock had been off the meds for a few days had made for a few difficulties, but they were all sorted now. (And, it also helped that they had much better treatments for mental illnesses now than they had thirty years ago.)

“There’s a rogue group called the NID that we need help taking down,” General Hammond stated calmly, sitting back in his chair. “We thought we had them under control, but they go much deeper than we thought. Worldwide, the NID have their fingers in just about everything. Racketeering, human trafficking, slavery, the mafia…everything you can think of, they seem to be involved in some way or another.” He shrugged lightly. “Frankly, Colonel, we want you and your men to go about doing what you were doing before, only we’d be pointing you in the right direction.” 

The use of ‘colonel’ was telling, Hannibal thought. The fact that they were in a military compound and not being thrown in the brig was something too. Apparently, Colonel O’Neill hadn’t been lying about those pardons.

“Same thing, huh?” Hannibal grunted. He was beginning to get a little worried about the fact that his men were being incredibly quiet. They hadn’t said a word since entering this office, in fact, and it was disconcerting. They were hardly ever quiet unless they were planning something.

“There are some differences, of course,” Hammond stated. “Would you like pros or cons first?”

Hannibal grinned. “Let’s take the cons.”

“Paperwork,” Hammond said with a small smile. “And mandatory training sessions. You’d be expected to be here on base for a couple days a month at least, and we might ask you to go off-world on rescue missions sometimes.”

Hannibal nodded. That didn’t sound too bad. “And the pros?”

“A steady paycheck, medical help, backup if you need it and a place to call home,” Hammond responded. 

Behind him, Face shifted, and Hannibal sighed. Yeah, this sounded like a really good deal. “Hate to break it to you, General, but we don’t even know the state of the world right now.”

“Three weeks,” General Hammond stated. “That gives us enough time to get you settled. Allow you to meet up with Mrs. Amy Hanson nee Allen. And get your house put together.” He allowed a bit of a grin. “The bag that you and the others brought back had enough gems to buy out an entire street here. Your house will be ready soon.” That and get their bank accounts set up. Frankly, the row of houses they’d bought had all been fixer-uppers on the edge of Colorado Springs. They’d gotten a really good deal on all of them.

Hannibal nodded, turning to his men. “Three weeks,” he said. “Can we give you our answers then?”

“Of course, Colonel,” Hammond nodded. And with a nod, Hannibal led the way out of the office, his men falling in behind him.

_The Magnificent Seven_

“You want us to work here?” Chris asked, eyes narrowed as he glared down at the General. He wasn’t happy, that much was obvious, but what man would be after being ‘dead’ for twenty years.

“That is what I said, Mr. Larabee,” Hammond nodded. He glanced to the group of six behind the glaring man, eyebrows raised. “Allow us three weeks to get you and your men up to date and get your houses in order, and we’ll allow you that time to make up your minds.”

“You want us going off world?” Buck asked, clasping a hand on Chris’s shoulder. 

“I do,” Hammond nodded. There was shuffling among the men, narrow gazes and some nudging between members. “Usually we only have four member teams, but I feel like we could make an exception for you seven. We would like you to primarily be a rescue team.”

“To rescue who, exactly?” Ezra spoke up, clasping his hands behind him. It had taken the better part of a week for Janet to allow the man out of her clutches. Vin had managed to sweet talk his way out after two days, apparently figuring it was every man for themselves, when it came to the infirmary. (Although, to be fair, Ezra had never been left alone while in medical either, at least one of his teammates had always been present. Janet hadn’t even tried to get them to leave.)

“Whoever needs rescuing,” Hammond responded. He sat back. “Three weeks. We have procured three houses for the group of you, on the same street as the other two teams new houses. All of them need a little work. By the time the three weeks are up, they should be ready to be moved into.” He slid some paperwork over, everything he’d been able to find on the ladies that had been in the men’s wills.

“Three weeks, General,” Chris said, snapping up the paper and stalking out of the room. Josiah and Nathan gave apologetic looks, but followed the rest of the team out. As soon as the door had shut, Hammond sat back with a sigh. He’d never let the man know, but that glare had been terrifying.

_The Council_

Xander blinked at the man, wondering if maybe he’d heard wrong. “You want us to join you in fighting off aliens?” he asked. Faith snickered behind him and he refrained from elbowing her. She’d probably hit back, and he’d just managed to escape the infirmary after spending four days there. That Janet was scary.

“That is what I said, young man,” Hammond smiled. “We’ve been working with the Council for a while, trying to find a suitable team. But no one was willing to work with the military.”

Oz gave a short nod, shifting on his feet, and Hammond frowned. He remembered the reason why that was, and that this boy had had some trauma that was military induced, but he figured they could work around that. 

“We’re ten years out of date, yo,” Faith scowled, suddenly looking far older than she was. They hadn’t contacted the Council yet, a little afraid of what they’d find. Xander reached back and took her hand. “And we ain’t military.”

“We’re not expecting you to be,” Hammond replied. He tilted his head a bit, regarding the three of them. “Frankly, the amount of occult that we see in the field is astounding, but more than that, we just want to see you where you belong. We can give you three weeks to make your decision. Talk to the Council. If you want to take us up on the offer, there’s a house being prepared for you, on the same street as the others.” Because for some reason, keeping all the time travelers together had sounded like the best idea.

Xander stared at him for a long moment. “We won’t have to be part of the military? And our team will just be us three?”

“Yes,” Hammond said. “Although, to be fair, your team would likely be accompanying other teams in the field, as opposed to being a first contact team.”

The boy nodded, heaving a sigh. “Three weeks,” he said. He rolled his eye. “I’m going to have to fill out paperwork aren’t I?” he complained as he ushered his companions out of the room. 

Hammond was tempted to laugh, but stopped himself. The Council had been begging to be able to see the three, but he’d been holding them off, allowing them to heal. Now, though, everyone could get the closure they needed and hopefully Hammond would get his occult team. 

_And three weeks later, there was a stack of papers on his desk, with fourteen new signatures, all stating their employment to the SGC._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it. The end of the story that brings all four teams together to work for the SGC. There will be other stories in this series. Mostly one-shots. Just keep an eye out.


End file.
